


Sunlit Sands - An Exalted Campaign

by Aleph (Immatrael), Shyft



Category: Exalted (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, Roleplay Logs, Solar Exalted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 70
Words: 470,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immatrael/pseuds/Aleph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyft/pseuds/Shyft
Summary: In which Inks learns more of the nation-state of Gem and it's economy, and then begins to solve all her problems with TIGER and Demons.





	1. Sun Under Water

It's a two-month journey from the Southern coast down to Gem, alternating between sandship and yeddim-caravan along the eastern side of the Firepeaks. Inks is glad to have reached the last leg of it; the oasis-town of Sun Under Water that lies a week's travel north of Gem.

The desert spring that gives the town its name lies inside a small castle, and a trick of the light makes its bed glint golden during daylight. It's said to bestow a destiny of fortune-to-come to those who bathe there - something the ruling Vibeki family clamp down on by refusing to let anyone approach it directly.

All of which makes it a little confusing for Inks when she wakes to find herself in a strange room whose window looks out from the castle walls.

No stranger to posh residences, the young woman pushed herself up out of the admittedly comfortable bed-decadently so, and took stock. Rose petals in the silk sheets, aromatic oils in nearby decanters, and stone- no marble floors and columns with gauzy wall hangings between them. The first question on her mind proved to be 'am I naked?' and secondly 'did I have a good night?'

>   
>  Inks: ((Per+Aware stunt, actually.))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Roll it.))  
>  ST: ((2 dice.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8; Inks rolled [8, 3, 10, 9, 9, 9, 1, 1] for a compiled value of 6.  
>  Inks: ((Assuming Difficulty 1, that is a Legendary Success. Auspicious start!)  
> 

The answer to the first question immediately proved to be "decidedly not". Running a finger along the embroidered cream-coloured satin, Inks guessed that the dress she was wearing was probably worth a small fortune. There were even white diamonds sewn into it! And the hood was somehow managing to not muss her hair at _all_ , despite having slept in it. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it was a surprisingly good one for something pre-made - and a quick assessment of her body revealed no soreness or pain anywhere. Someone had been very, very careful getting her out of her sleeping clothes (and room) and into this masterpiece.

>   
>  ST: ((Dress is worth Res 4 and probably thaumaturgic in some way - likely enhancing beauty, comfort or both.))  
> 

As to her second question, she didn't remember any particular revelry last night. She'd gone to sleep in the teahouse room she'd rented and woken up here, feeling... amazing, actually. Had someone given her a massage? Or a face treatment? A glance in the mirror certainly showed that she was glowing as though she'd spent an afternoon at an expensive bathhouse. Which raised some alarming questions about why she hadn't woken up, actually.

>   
>  ST: ((As far as she can tell, someone has very gently and very carefully transferred her to this room, changed her clothes, and given her a beauty treatment. She suspects that her sleeping through this may not have just been exhaustion from a long and uncomfortable journey that involved lots of sand.))  
>  Inks: ((Awesome. May I use Flawless Diagnosis on myself to determine if I was drugged?))  
>  ST: ((You may.))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, so 1m personal- do I show any symptoms that are medically relevant, this is a yes/no question.))  
>  ST: ((Yes; you've probably had some sort of opiate applied to keep you asleep. As a doctor, this is likely the kind of medical dose given to help people with severe insomnia, and was probably given after you fell asleep naturally.))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, so you just gave me the second activation worth of information right now, the way the charm works is 1m; confirm if relevant; 1m again, diagnose over 5 minutes with no chance of failure*))  
>  Inks: ((Caveat. Inks had a stomach bottle bug, wouldn't it have eaten the opiate, or no?))  
>  ST: ((Ah, gotcha. Misread the charm. And... hmm. I know they drink alcohol, but I'm not sure how that would work with an inhaled dose.))  
>  Inks: ((I thought they ate poisons in general, it's why they live in your stomach when not performing surgery. We can table that one for now and carry on.))  
>  ST: ((Heh. Well, it may be that you weren't meant to wake up for a while longer.))  
>  Inks: ((Also true!))  
>  Inks: ((Writan))  
> 

Armed with that knowledge, Inks hummed and fully sat up. The dress really was nice, though white did not exactly match her color or body-art that well. The floor was cool against her feet, but not uncomfortably so. Moving to the doorway, she peered outside into the hall. "Hello? Anyone out there?"  


She heard some murmuring at the end of the hall, the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing. After a moment, a man emerged from around the corner, wearing a gold-embroidered black robe that seemed to match and compliment hers. He looked a few years older than her, dark skinned tanned darker by the sun, with a quixotic face and an air of general enthusiasm.

"Beloved!" he cried, clapping his hands happily. "You are awake!" He paused and frowned. "Somewhat early. Ah well, no matter. Preparations are underway!"

Inks blinked once. Twice. Three times for good measure, and quietly mouthed 'beloved' before she reached out and caught him by the sleeve of his robe. "Preparations. For what exactly? And your name is...?"

"Ah, my apologies! Suleiman Al Ea, at your delighted service, my love!" He bowed. "And I have of course heard your sobriquet from the caravan-master you arrived with - is 'Inks' acceptable between us, or would you prefer something else? Regardless, the preparations are for our wedding! We are most lucky; the stars tonight are auspicious for a binding of hands." He beamed.

"Wedding." Inks exhaled softly, though she smiled despite herself. "Okay. I'm from Nexus. Do you know what happens to women who wake up drugged in Nexus? Yeah, Not a pretty thought!" She smoothed her hands down the sides of her gown, not at all upset about how it hugged her curves, but she made it abundantly clear by the look on her face that she was not convinced. "I remember checking into a teahouse for the night and falling asleep. This dress is certainly an upgrade from the rags I had on, but-"

She cut herself off then, letting her.. intended(?) respond.

His eyes widened. "My _profound_ apologies, then! No distress was meant, my love. I merely wished for you to be well-rested on our wedding day. I know how exhausting the trip down from the coast can be, especially for those who - if I may guess - have never attempted it before?"

>   
>  ST: ((Roll me Wits+Awareness.))  
>  Inks: ((Gonna burn a conviction channel, my pool is awful. Got called away too))  
>  Inks: !ex 7; Inks rolled [10, 10, 9, 1, 3, 5, 4] for a compiled value of 5.  
>  Inks: ((I just remembered I have inherent excellencies too. Oh well, I like saving motes))  
>  Inks: ((Oh hey I'm Conviction 5, forgot!))  
>  Inks: ((Misread it as four))  
> 

As Inks looked closer, she noticed the sand-worn look of his cheeks, and the rings and necklaces he wore - talismans for safe travel and fortune. Put together with the tan, it wasn't hard to guess that he was probably a trader or merchant - one who'd probably travelled the route between Gem and the Inner Threshold many times before.

And if he could afford to stick her in a dress worth a small fortune and convince the Vibeki family to open their castle for a wedding with no notice, he was probably a reasonably successful one - or at least one enjoying the benefits of a good year.

Loaded, smitten and crazy enough to put his money where his mouth was. "Suleiman , if I can call you that... I'm flattered, truly flattered. The castle is a great location and the dress is beautiful- well okay no it's _hot_ , really hot - but I'm really not interested in getting married. Kind of had some bad history with the topic."

She stepped around, taking in the decor, wondering to herself if the man could borrow this posh estate, what would he have in his actual digs? A pleasant fantasy, but not one that aligned with hers exactly. "I can safely say you are the first person to to this far for me, but I really cannot marry someone in a day of meeting them. I've got things to do and my own dreams to follow."

>   
>  Inks: ((Conviction 5 yo))  
>  The sound of rattling dice comes from Aleph's direction.  
> 

"I see..." he murmured, looking crestfallen for a moment. Then he determinedly brightened again. "Give me a chance, then, to change your opinions on the matter! The preparations will not be finished for some hours yet - allow me until then to win your heart! Your caravan will not leave until tonight - and at the very least, I will have the memory of your company." He offered her his hand "Surely I am a more interesting companion than your fellow travellers, no?"

> ST: ((He manages a reasonable 4 successes to convince Inks to at least hear him out for the day.))
> 
> Inks: ((Alright, Dodge MDV is willpower+Essence+integrity /2 rounded down, so 15/2 =7; Parry MDV is of course lower. This is to say nothing of Awe or Virtue MDV bonuses/penalties. I can SAY I'm unmoved-))

In the face of that blinding optimism, Inks had to laugh. "Okay, I can agree to that at the very least. You are my kind of crazy, if it helps. I just am not a big fan of marriage.

> Inks: ((So in the interests of expedition, how about we montage the 'afternoon' with stuff he shows her instead of a direct dialogue?))  
>  ST: ((Yes. Hmm. Roll me Perception+Socialise for what Inks picks up on from him throughout the afternoon.))  
>  Inks: ((This time using my excellency. Also- one thing you should start doing is declaring Difficulty, You don't have to always tell me the exact number, and there are rules for assessing how hard a task will be when reasonable in corebook))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; Inks rolled [2, 3, 3, 7, 3, 2, 1, 4, 10, 3, 10, 8] for a compiled value of 6.<  
> 

Suleiman lit up at her acceptance, and Inks spent the rest of the afternoon on his arm as he led her on a tour of his assets. He hadn't borrowed the _entire_ Vibeki castle; it appeared - "merely" a wing and part of the grounds, where a bustle of activity was underway. From the looks of some of the workers as they walked past, Inks guessed that this was not the first time her would-be-fiance had been taken by a spur-of-the-moment idea. His own tales told the same story, but he seemed to have been lucky more often than not - or simply had a good eye for a bargain. He was the head of a fair-sized merchant caravan currently headed north back up to the coast with a cargo of fine jewels and beautiful craft - her dress among them. It was a respectably-sized business, though Inks had seen bigger along the coastal roads as she travelled west, and the burkha- and turban-clad men and women seemed to at least be happy with their choice of employer.

((In their talking, Inks picks up that Suleiman has a strong intimacy of Optimism, a slightly obsessive belief in True Love which probably explains why he decided to marry her on sight, and that he's in the "highly-trained mortal" region for cheerfully enthusiastic charisma and bargaining talent - though she suspects he's only about average at the actual desert-travelling part of the job.))

There were a few more exotic things that he was carrying from Gem, too - magical goods and exotic beasts kept on the most secure and heavily-guarded areas. One of them took a liking to Inks. The first she knew of this was a rumbling purr-growl that preceded something massive butting against a cage that took up most of a wagon.

"Ah," Suleiman laughed. "Apparently, Maji is as taken with you as I am!"

>   
>  ST: ((She can also try to judge his Resources background from what she's seen, if she wants.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7 +1 "Int+bur + 2nd ex"; Inks rolled [9, 4, 10, 3, 5, 2, 7] for a compiled value of 5.  
> 

Inks’ eyes lit up, and she only managed to toss Suleiman a bright grin that earned his unspoken permission before she darted forward to the cage. The lock came apart with surprising ease that she hoped he didn't notice, and her own body language turned rather primal and feline in a single breath. "Oh you are so handsome! she cooed, throwing the cage open and letting Maji out. She kindly urged him into the pavilion, completely at ease with the reality of standing next to a great tiger!

>   
>  Inks: ((Friendship with Animals Technique, 3m personal. So far I've spent 10m over the course of the session, all personal)  
>  Inks: ((As per corebook, Inks is str+ath 4 before enhancement, so her default is 350lbs/158.757kg - Lift a pony; carry a cotton bale on one shoulder; break a sword over one knee.))  
>  ST: ((Inks reckons he's medium Res 4 in terms of income - he moves much larger amounts of total wealth, but his outgoing expenses are substantial, and he mentions tariffs and transit taxes with an uncharacteristically grumpy air.))  
> 

It was a very, very big tiger. Inks had seen tigers as she passed along the southeastern coast of the Inland Sea, and this beast was /enormous/ by comparison. Its - his, she noted quickly - coat was lustrous and well-tended, and he looked expensively well-fed. Preening at her praise, the giant carnivore butted his head against her hip, demanding attention.

"He is a magnificent creature," said Suleiman from outside the cage; a note of awe in his voice. "Very, very discerning in who he allows near him. Only the worthy - we have only three among us who he would allow to touch him, and to prove themselves took weeks. He was to be a gift for a Dynastic house, or perhaps offered to one of the Pyre-Lords' courts."

Inks descended down to wrap her arms around the tiger's imposingly large head, gushing quietly before rising to face Suleiman. Her hand draped with an almost natural ease over Maji's head and brow, idly petting his ears and ruff. "He- uhm... erm. I can't say I've always wanted a pet tiger but IReallyWantAPetTiger!" The last part came out in a whispered, giddy rush. "I'm by no means a Dynastic house or Pyre-Lord..." Her expression shifted, crafty and intent.

"Just so we're clear, marriage is off the table. I don't know you that well but I would certainly like to get to know you." She paused, marshaling her arguments. "My goal is Gem- Not the city but the nation-state itself. I am on my way there to make it big or break upon it. What I lack in monetary assets, liquid or otherwise, I can guarantee you that I am a sound investment and equal to any Dynastic scion playing the petty markets in the Threshold."

> She went on to enumerate some of his own assets as she saw them, offering an analysis as to convince him of her claims and talents. (Cha/Int+Bur; Stunt value to convince him to invest in Inks.)
> 
> ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: (Which attribute, my int is better but you can rule cha?))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Cha, I think. You're playing to two of his Intimacies - and you're, you know, gorgeous - so this isn't too hard a roll.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha.)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled [1, 1, 2, 7, 6, 5, 4, 8, 2, 3] for a compiled value of 2.  
>  Inks: (you were saying?)
> 
> Inks: ((Cha 2 + Bur 2 + Ex 4 +2 stunt))  
>  Inks: ((Well, I can try again once he responds))  
>  Inks: ((I'm down to 5m personal left))  
> 

Suleiman seemed to consider for only a moment before shrugging, though Inks caught a flash of what looked like intense thought. "Gem is a dangerous place, beloved," he warned. "Your brilliance is obvious, but I would be wary of settling there. Why not begin in safer territory, and expand there later?" His smile warmed a few degrees.

"If you must know me better before I ask for your hand, then travel with me for a time! Meet those who can back your ambitions, increase your own assets before trying for Gem itself! And as for Maji... who am I to keep him apart from you, when he judges you so worthy so soon? He is yours, my love - a gift freely given, regardless of your answer. Though," he smiles, "I would not describe him as a mere _pet_. He has a war god's blood in his veins, and is a proud and noble creature." Maji confirmed this with a low rumble and a haughty feline sniff in the man's direction.

>   
>  ST: ((This time he manages a more respectable 6 successes, aided by the frankly ridiculous romantic gift of a GIANT TIGER. Though still not enough to sway MAX CONVICTION Inks if she does not want to be swayed.))  
>  Inks: ((I at the very least feel like I should roll conviction, pass to hold course, fail to be tempted or spend a WP to resist))  
>  ST: ((Heh. Fair enough. Go for it.))  
>  Inks: ((Difficulty 1 is standard for virtue rolls))  
>  Inks: !ex 5; Inks rolled [8, 8, 4, 6, 8] for a compiled value of 3.  
>  ST: ((MAX CONVICTION INKS.))  
> 

Humbled, and rightly so, Inks was caught between the overwhelmingly romantic gesture, and her own deep-seated pursuit of wealth and glory. "Tempting, so very tempting." She admitted, and Maji purred under her arm with a rumble that shook her bones. "But I must stay on my path. I however, am a sorcerer and will be easy to reach once I am settled. If things don't work out in Gem, I have more than enough reason to find my way back to you. A welcoming set of arms is rare in Creation."

"But I still feel that I can improve our fortunes together. An investment now would allow me to pay you back and secure great profit in your name- but even if you don't agree, I'll fondly remember today and you as well, when I need goods and services shipped across Creation."

>   
>  Inks: ((Cha+Pres, gonna channel conviction to make it stick. Stunt value?))  
>  ST: ((2))  
>  Inks: !ex 16; Inks rolled [2, 6, 7, 1, 10, 8, 8, 6, 1, 6, 1, 8, 4, 10, 9, 7] for a compiled value of 10.  
>  ST: ((WELP))  
>  Inks: ((He can still spend a WP to resist the argument, but since this is inline with intimacies, it's probably good.))  
> 

He bowed low. "I will not forget - and I will not give up hope of winning your heart, either. But, beloved," he looked up without any hint of a smile. In fact, he looked worried. Sincerely so. "I meant it when I said Gem was dangerous. If you are determined to go there... I will give you what you need to have a chance at success. Maji, for protection. Wealth enough to make a start. And advice - most of all, advice. Be quieter about your ambitions - I don't doubt that you can do it, but others will not hear them so kindly. The Despot Rankar is a ruthless man, and the noble families no less so." Looking up at the moon, he judged its angle and nodded. "There are a few hours yet before your caravan leaves. I will tell you what I know of Gem, if you are sworn to go there."

>   
>  ST: ((So yeah, Inks gets a lump sum for use in setting up, and a cliff notes of Gem. Suleiman doesn't know as much as a resident would, but he can identify the major players like the noble families and give her a few tips on acclimatising to the city.))  
>  Inks: ((Awesome. For the record I am totally going to 'adopt' Suleiman, though marriage maybe not. I have plaaaans now!))  
>  ST: ((Hee. He might have reacted worse, but you left "win my heart later" open and /obliterated/ his MDV with those 10 successes.))  
>  ST: ((... and also waved profit at him.))  
>  Inks: ((Yep. Also I am definitely interested in this oasis place we're currently at, so I might want to come back later.))  
>  Inks: ((But for now, I think the next step is to scenebreak to 'Arrival in Gem', unless you had something you wanted to do first?))  
>  ST: ((My thoughts too. If you want to show any of Inks' closing thoughts on the encounter as she leaves, go ahead, otherwise I'll scene break.))  
>  Inks: ((No closing thoughts at the moment, it felt like a good breakpoint))  
> 

* * *

Inks made sure to leave with better clothes than the rags she'd been traveling in - not the wedding dress, but a well-made burnoose that Suleiman insisted on ("the sun is harsh, beloved").

She was grateful for it over the next week of slow, sweltering, sandy travel; an ordeal made worse by the necessity of feeding Maji. Who turned out to eat a lot. A _lot_. The weak sandstorm that rolled over them on the second-to-last day was almost the final straw; filling the air with stinging grains and blotting out the horizon but not quite raging fiercely enough to dig in and take shelter until it passed.

Nonetheless, when it finally abated nearly a day later; the three-mile high crag of Rankar Peak rose above them in the near distance; a spike of dark red stone that stood out from .the rolling foothills to her right. Off to the left, Inks could see four or five huge gashes in the landscape, branching into and out from each other as though some giant had raked the landscape with a huge set of claws.

That would be the Scar, then - the furnace rhino migration route that Suleiman had mentioned, which cut between Gem and the deep desert. Apparently there were rope bridges across it, which sounded terrifyingly unstable. Luckily, the northern route into the city didn't require crossing them.

There appeared to be no sign of habitation or civilisation around Rankar Peak - at least at first. It was a mountain no different from any of the Firepeaks off to the west; tall and craggy and shimmering slightly with heat haze. But as they rounded the base, Inks saw the vast crater blown out from the southern side of the peak - a horrific wound in the mountain's side that left the high peak almost hollow from this side.

The southern crater rim was barely a mile high to the peak's three, and as the yeddim-drawn wagons crested the ridge, the city of Gem was spread out before them. Or at least, that part of it that was above ground - for the boxy buildings of thick-walled granite and dusty, baking streets were only the uppermost layer of the wealthy city, Inks knew. It was late afternoon, and the shadow of the mountain slanted eastward over half of the city as the sun began its descent. Her first order of business, then, was a place to stay.

It took her a few moments to make a few judgements before deciding on her course of action. With Maji at her side, she didn't fear much, and her friend-tiger was polite enough to not need much minding in the thinly populated streets. Those still out in the sweltering heat gave her a wide berth. The urge was there, to stride up to a lavish resort (if she could find one) and demand the nicest, most richly appointed rooms and get a spa treatment- Inks took a deep breath and calmed herself. She needed a place to stay and ideally a good place to find employment.

Fortunately for her, concubines were an almost creation-wide institution.

She could not go upscale, as she knew her tattoo actually fit in too well with exotic courtesans and the like. By the same token, she could not hide in the gutters, but her compassion made no small sound in her heart as she made a note to offer her services as a doctor as soon as possible.

Finding a suitable establishment and convincing the madam that no she was not looking for that kind of work and yes she could diagnose any malady and devise treatment for same and did she mention she had a heaping great huge bronze tiger that could be a wonderful deterrent against unscrupulous sorts?

> ST: ((Yeah, lemme see... hmm. Let's go with Per+Inv, Diff 2. Stunt 2.))  
>  Inks: (Hahaha investigation zero!)  
>  Inks: (Can I still excellency, or do I need an ability dot?  
>  ST: ((Need at least a dot. Poor Inks. But it's not a tough roll with her Perception.))  
>  Inks: (Burrning conviction, i have spent more virtues in this game than I have in the last game I played in))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; Inks rolled [1, 7, 10, 3, 4, 7, 4, 2, 4, 6, 2, 10] for a compiled value of 6.  
>  Inks: (A threshold of 4! Respectable!!))  
>  ST: ((Haha, wow. Nailed it.))  
> 

It takes an hour or two, but Inks is pointed to a place by a parched-looking beggar swaddled in rags and amulets after she stops to give him a few mouthfuls of water; moved by the way others scowl or kick dust at him. The establishment he tells her about is down in the lava tubes beneath the city, cooler and darker than the streets above and lit by glowstones pressed into the walls. Its name, proclaimed by the blue-agate sign above the door, is the Dream of Flesh; a purveyor of dreamstones and prostitutes both. Its bouncer; a muscled woman with a wide-brimmed hat and a half-length scimitar, is initially stoic until Maji shoves his head over Inks' shoulder and rumbles at her.

He just about fits through the door. Barely.

The _madame_ of the Dream of Flesh is more of a surprise, mostly in that it takes Inks a good four or five minutes of conversation to realise that they are, in fact, a monsieur. He's beautiful in a feminine sort of way, speaks with a lilt of wry amusement, and introduces himself as Sahlak Ahlam.

Inks recognises the first name - the House of Sahlak run all of the dream parlours and brothels in the city. She suspects they'll be hearing of the gorgeous doctor with the giant tiger before sunrise tomorrow. Nonetheless, Ahlam appears willing to offer her a place to stay, after confirming her skills on a few of his girls. They seem to be in good health, albeit mildly dehydrated to a woman. Not surprising, in this city.

>   
>  ST: ((... slipped back into present))  
>  ST: ((my bad))  
>  Inks: (( hahha, not a problem))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, i must now attend to responsibilities, thank you for running. We can post-mortem and plan for next session some other day!))  
>  ST: 4xp + 1mxp; good game!  
> 

  



	2. Session 2: A Beauty in Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inks learns more of the nation-state of Gem and it's economy, and then begins to solve all her problems with TIGER and Demons.

>   
>  ST: ((Session 2))  
>  Inks: ((Hype is Hype))  
>  ST: ((We left Inks in the care of Sahlak Ahlam, in the Dream of Flesh brothel-slash-dream-parlour, having demonstrated her worth as a TIGER I mean doctor.))  
>  Inks: ((Correct. The plan was to bargain for a few nights, earning her keep as doctor/TIGER provision specialist))  
>  ST: ((He is probably not entirely happy about the TIGER right now. :P))  
>  Inks: ((Has anything interesting happened because she showed up? Was she followed, was Maji followed, etc? Oh? We shall have to mollify him then- is Sahlak the family name?))  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

The night was a reasonably pleasant one, at least once Inks fashioned a pair of earplugs and had Maji lie in front of the door. Soundproofing, she decided, would be an good thing to look into. Sahlak Ahlam was awake by the time she got downstairs, and informed her that while he could provide breakfast for her, Maji was another story entirely. He did not look overly enthusiastic about the tiger's presence in his business, though he wasn't foolish enough to say so out loud. 

>   
>  ((If you want an IC rundown of what Inks knows about the houses and monopolies; prompt it in the narration and I'll work it in.))  
> 

Inks for her part acknowledged the arrangement with a winsome, understanding smile before dishing up. "I fully intend to pay for my time here and not burden you or your business. I am more than a bit grateful for how courteous and honorable a host you've been so far." She paused then, smiling ruefully. "And yes, taking care of Maji has been a challenge."

She paused then, taking a seat and eating with an effortless grace before humming. "I've been given the general overview of Gem and it's monopolies, but you live and work here- could you be as so kind as to fill me in?" 

"I can imagine it must have been," he murmured, eyeing the length of the beast sprawling out behind the table. Two of the three girls who had come down this early were sitting as far away as possible and trying not to look at Maji; the third was nervously feeding him scraps of spiced meat at arm's length. "Very well, but in return you must tell me the story of how you met such a magnificent creature, no?" He gave Inks an easy smile.

Inks smirked. "I got drugged and stuffed in a wedding dress. And then my suitor gave him to me after I set him straight about how you treat a lady. It was a really nice dress though."

She turned to the three women keeping abreast of her tiger. "He's god enough to be offended, treat him like a particularly big, cuddly person and you'll be fine." 

"... I... see," blinked Ahlam. "Most impolite of the man. The monopolies, then." His voice took on a sardonic edge. "Our glorious leader, Despot Rankar the Seventh, sees fit to bestow them on families who prove themselves able to handle the responsibility and difficulties of managing such things." He smirked back at her. "That is to say; they are given to the rich to make them richer, and kept so long as they pay the Despot to keep them. Those who violate a monopoly meet with mercenary action, so holding one gives a family complete control of that business within Gem. As an example..." he spread his hands, "the House of Sahlak; the family of which I am but a humble member, holds the monopoly for the brothels and dream parlours of the city; from the grandest pleasure-house in the Red Stone district to the cheapest of rent-boys." 

"Hmmm..." Inks leaned back in her seat and crossed one leg over the other, hand cupping her chin as she mulled that over. "And like most forms of taxation, it's derived from your total profit, so if you were to say, miraculously improve your income, your tax rate would increase proportionally." "About how much does it cost to start a monopoly?"

>   
>  Inks: ((advice here- what matters isn't that the amount is accurate; just that it's a goal that I can pursue as a player))  
> 

"I couldn't name an exact amount - such a thing is for the heads of houses to know. At least a dozen talents of silver, thought - perhaps as many as thirty," Ahlam replies. "To some extent it depends on the despot's whim - those he likes pay less than those he doesn't." "Why do you ask?" he added, frowning. 

"Oh. I just like the idea of running a merchant empire." She grinned with white teeth. "Does the Despot allow much in the way of investment banking, venture capital? Between houses, I mean. Or even his own treasury." Inks: She paused then. "Is there even a central bank?" 

Ahlam's eyes widened at that, and his wry demeanour wobbled dangerously for a moment. One of the girls - the one who'd been feeding Maji instead of cowering - seemed to notice the slip with interest. "Ah... Trasti House hold the monopoly for the public banks, as well as the gambling houses," he managed after a precarious few seconds. "You may have heard of them - Trasti Gion is the current head, and he means to expand Trasti banking across the South."

>   
>  Inks: ((Okay I spent 4wp last session and it's only been a day, so I'm going to roll conviction to regain some from sleeping. Then I'm going to spend 1wp on a per+socialize action to read into Ahlam's slip))  
>  Inks: (Pff, one sux on 5d)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Roll it, then.))  
> 

Inks did not miss the unschooled look on her host's face, how Ahlam's expression wavered. The breakfast hall grew quiet, save for Maji's insistent, playful rumble that his New Favorite Courtesan keep treating him as his stature demanded.

>   
>  Inks: ((Bonus?))  
>  ST: ((yeah, 2 dice))  
>  Inks: (Rolled 3+1 autosux)  
> 

The boldness of her plan really startled him, Inks noted; scrutinising the man with sharp eyes. Her ambition, her immediate narrowing in on questions about setting up monopolies and gathering vast sums of money... he must have guessed that her joke about wanting to own a merchant empire isn't such a joke. And that startled him, she thought. Probably because most people who come to Gem in search of great wealth think of doing it by finding priceless gems.

Standing, Inks bowed to her host wtih a bright, cheery smile before silently beckoning Maji to follow. "As mentioned, I appreciate your hopsitality, and I hope to repay you with interest as soon as possible. I'm going to go looking at real estate- do you have a suggestion of who I should talk to?" She outlined her needs in admittedly blunt terms, but it made the discussion go quickly. Private, defensible (as much as one can in a city), and so on. 

>   
>  Inks: ((I am going to try and find a place to start setting up a workshop. ))  
>  Inks: ((I want that sorcerous XP yo, so I'm interested in expediting the house-hunting a bit. Like, I'm gonna look for a good deal, but I am willing to pay or compromise a bit now in favor of better return later))  
> 

"Hmm," Ahlam frowned, giving it some thought and pulling his dignity back together. "Well, there are a number of land-holders who are willing to sell or rent land. If it's privacy you want, I suggest the south side of the city - it gets the least amount of shade, and few stay there long if they have a choice. Of course, that means dealing with the heat. In general, property above ground has fewer passers-by than those in the tunnels, though rooms underground mean a limited number of ways in and out." 

Inks nodded, and with that, prepared to move out. 

>   
>  Inks: ((Going to stunt... perception or intelligence bureuacracy to find a place? and I want to invoke Ahlam's information as a circumstance bonus as well, 1-3 dice probably. So to be sure- in Gem, aboveground properties are more private because Too Hot for most people to be comfortable?))  
> 

Inks moved with purpose, out of the lava caverns and literal underground markets until she broke out into the shadowed side of Gem's collapsed caldera. The heat was rich and intense, almost vital. With Maji at her side, the pair cut a wide swath through the thinning crowds until she had found both an estate agent, and a few likely properties where Ahlam suggested. 

>   
>  Inks: ((Per/Int+Bur, info + stunt bonus?))  
>  ST: ((Correct on your question. Some places have an underground bit as well - they're sort of iceberg-like - while others are entirely above ground. In general, above-ground space is cheaper than below-ground, and places where the only entrances are above-ground will have also fewer people walking by and the like. Ditto south/north, since the north edge of the city is right up against the peak and gets the most shade - that's where the Despot's Palace is.))  
>  ST: Roll me, hmm... Yeah, call it Int+Bur+1 Ahlam bonus since he gave you the names of a few places. 2-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled [10, 3, 3, 9, 4, 10, 5, 7, 6, 1] for a compiled value of 6.  
>  Inks: (Drat, forgot excellency, may I add those dice?)  
>  ST: ((Go ahead.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7; Inks rolled [8, 3, 1, 10, 8, 4, 2] for a compiled value of 4.  
>  Inks: ((10 sux))  
> 

Striking lucky on her fourth attempt - with Maji providing support with the occasional growl - Inks gets an amazing deal. It's a long, low-ceilinged room on the southern edge of Gem; almost up against the crater wall. According to the land-holder, it used to host a beef supplier that took in cattle carcasses from the mountains and turned them into dried and salted strips of meat. Until, that is, three of the workers got into a fight and two of them wound up stabbed to death and left to mummify in the heat as the third fled the city; to become furious hungry ghosts trapped within the room by the salt barrels and the sun.

"Th-they're gone!" the man babbled as he received the full force of Maji's _very unfriendly_ attention. "The, the, the owner c-came to see why the shipment was late, and the mercenaries d-dealt with the situation; destroyed them! They've been gone two months, no shadowland, no nothing, salt ground into the s-stone, see? Just, just, the story got around, see, a-and it's put anyone off b-buying..."

He was telling the truth, Inks decided. And also probably needed a change of clothes.

Inks grinned. "I'll take it."

>   
>  ST: ((o exalted))  
>  Inks: ((So first question- how tough is the structure?))  
>  Inks: ((Second: are there any intervening structures between it and aforementioned crater wall?))  
>  Inks: ((Third question- does the Despot have a monopoly on -mining- gemstones, or the sale/cutting/distribution of gemstones?))  
>  ST: ((Heheh. Good questions. To the last; mining he allows, and indeed encourages as long as you follow the rules like, you know, "don't undermine houses or set off explosives in the tunnels", etc. Rankar's clever enough to have set up an industry where anyone can come and /find/ gemstones - which attracts many, many people eager to do just that - but once you've found them, the only person to sell them to is him. So the trade all passes through his hands.))  
>  Inks: ((Hmm.. So my plan still works. Ish. Mostly I need to know if the building can handle Okidaci or not))  
> 

With the scared and somewhat smelly estate agent paid and gone; Inks took a look around her new property. It was typical for Gem; built of local volcanic rock with thick walls and slit windows designed to keep the inside as cool as possible. Which was still sweltering, by noon. Most of the buildings nearby seemed to be workspaces for the sort of industry that people prefer not to live too close to, or uncomfortable hovels for the workers thereof. The crater wall was a short walk of a few minutes - perhaps a block of boxy buildings away. Quite a few of which seemed to be abandoned, Inks noted. She wasn't surprised, with the sun's rays piercing down from one side of the peak like burning javelins.

>   
>  ST: ((Okidaci will make the inside feel like stepping into an oven, but yeah, it can handle them.))  
>  Inks: ((Alright. So how much did buying this property set me back?))?  
>  Inks: ((I know I don't have a Resources Rating yet, but Sulieman gave me that seed money; I assume I got a good deal))  
>  ST: ((Suleiman took "buying a place" into account, and you paid less than he estimated, but you're still running on the lowish side with that gone. You've probably got one more major purchase - something like raw materials or similar - plus living costs for a week or two. After that you're gonna have to start getting real inventive about feeding Maji.))  
>  Inks: ((Gotcha. I am preparing a very basic demon industry here.))  
> 

Sourcing the various reagents and inscribing the proper ritual circles took time, but 'Nanda would not have let her leave her studio if Inks had not achieved perfection in this particular art. Skin of Bronze to endure the heat; Herehal to manage the Okidakci as well as their own metalworks, and of course the Fire and Stone Dancers to serve as both forge and material. She carefully arranged it so that the herenhals would help keep the okidaci free and dancing, while also adding flux and reagents to their skins and harvesting the rare gemstones that followed.

>   
>  Inks: ((Let's keep it simple and say I only need two Okidaci and two Herenhals for now, so that's four binding rolls, unless you want to abstract it? Inks's binding pool is 10+3+3... Actually, Question- how do you buy down a demon's dice pool without peripheral motes?))  
>  ST: ((Honestly, these are First Circles. We can basically assume that you're probably going to beat their binding rolls without too much difficulty. Binding rolls are more a concern for 2CDs and up, where you stand a chance of failure.))  
>  ST: ((I will note that the heranhals need to sate their lusts, or they gain Limit.))  
>  Inks: (Alright- Note that Okidaci are exotic dancers. I can't summon Neomah yet, sadly)  
>  Inks: ((Do Herenhals need to actually have sex, or just sate themselves 'somehow'?))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. "For every full day that it is denied sexual pleasure, a heranhal gains a point of Limit." They escape when mortals engaged in coitus are burned by red-hot iron - eg; fucking in a smithy - yeah, I think I'm going to say that just looking at sexy strippers isn't enough; they need to slake their lusts on something.))  
>  ST: ((I will let you switch out which demons you can summon, if you want.))  
>  Inks: ((I may have to- but another question; how do you want the obsucrity mechanic to work alongside your idea of 'limited demon breeds'?  
>  Inks: ((Like, Neomah are 2/4 by the original rules, so anyone with Occult 4 knows everything about them worth knowing. ))  
>  ST: ((Well, anyone with Occult 4 and a justification for how they know it. And hmm. Good question. I... may have the limited-breeds thing replace the Obscurity mechanics, I guess.))  
>  Inks: (Correction, Neomah are 1/2. And alright! In that case I shall replace the trident weaver with Neomah))  
>  Inks: ((So I now have 3 demons all sort of arranged in a task-circle. Okidaci dance/get gemskins, Herenhals put the flux on/harvest the gems, and Neomah keep the Herenhals happy. I am likely spending resources 3 on the reagents to make gemstones, which the plan was that you get +1 resources out from a okidaci skinforge))  
>  ST: ((Inks is aware that neomah are themselves inclined to make their towers. Which are made of brass and tin with a green fire burning at the tip, and are likely to stand out a bit in Gem. Does she have a plan to deal with this?))  
>  Inks: ((Hmm, It won't fit inside the building just yet; How big are these towers usually?))  
>  ST: ((Rather irritatingly, it doesn't actually say. But since it's described as a tower, I'm going to eyeball it at about three or four storeys, or the equivalent thereof.))  
>  Inks: (The simplest solution is to build a tower ontop of my property. I can do that by hand if need by with CNNT.))  
>  Inks: ((by tower I mean a cowling or facade the neomah tower can sit inside))  
>  Inks: ((So I need stone (easy to get), and I can reduce the interval of the craft project by one step.))  
>  Inks: ((Also as a general thing, I'm going to take a craft action to further enhance how well the building pumps heat outside passively, so it will still be hot, but like, using geomancy almost to make it suck cold air in from channels cut into the foundation while hot air is expelled out the top.))  
>  Inks: ((So that's two craft actions- AC and Tower))  
>  Inks: ((Walk me through how this will happen))  
>  ST: ((Both viable. Hmm. Okay. Tower first. In this case it's literally just an empty shell of stone walls with a roof that's the right size - you don't need to worry about interior layout, beams, floors, stairs, etc. So you can skip the design phase. Timewise, this is more like building a garden wall than a proper house, so... mmm... lemme just check how long that generally takes.))  
>  ST: ((... yeah, we're probably looking at an interval of weeks, which Inks can bring down to days. Call the Tower a 6-week Construction phase of, mm, Diff 2. This is the sort of thing you might set a team of several men to doing, and have it done in a week or two.))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, do threshold successes do anything for me?))  
>  ST: ((Nah. You just have to pass.))  
>  Inks: ((Then I invoke the autosux rules, my craft pool is 9 and this convo is my stunt, so if I hit 10d, I autopass any Diff 2 check))  
>  Inks: ((So six days to build the tower, and we can stagger the demon summoning as to make sure everyone is happy))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, cool. Describe it, then.))  
>  ST: ((Oh, actually, first))  
>  ST: ((The AC is a more design-based project, in that it takes the current building (plus tower on top) and redesigns the windows and interior dimensions to promote heat dissipation. This means you're instead looking at something closer to a month-long design phase, followed by two or three weeks of construction as you fill in some windows, cut others and add/remove bits to and from the walls and ceiling.))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, I can't speed up the design phase yet, so I'll take that over the course of a month and get around the heat by being bronze lady for a while))  
>  Inks: ((So, at the end of the six days, I have a neomah tower and a small demon workshop that's making gemstones. I don't think I have enough assets to make like, exotic gemstones yet, just stuff that makes alchemical sense from things you can buy on the market. So Rubies, Emeralds- i want to say they're aluminum oxides?))  
>  Inks: ((So my major questions are: How much money does this earn me/Resource Rating, and who takes note of it?))  
>  Inks: ((A month downtime should be enough to see that happening))  
>  ST: ((AC will be be Diff 4 design - only a skilled, trained architect would be able to do something like this. And yup, you now have small rubies and sapphires plus a variety of lesser gems like spinel and agates.))  
>  Inks: ((Design stunt))  
> 

The tower was an elegant four storeys, graceful in its simplcity, and only the newness of its stonework obvious care made with every cut, curve and angle. Once the tower was made, Inks set her demon labor force to the creation of uncut gemstones in as many types and sizes she could afford to make. As her starting capital grew, she turned her attention to refining the heat dissapation and comfort of her new workplace. Cutting channels into the floor and foundation, routing cooler air from the bottom up, and arranging for accelerated hot air to be expelled through the tower as a great radiator... 

>   
>  Inks:((Bonus?))  
>  ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks rolled [9, 7, 2, 1, 2, 5, 5, 8, 5, 3] for a compiled value of 7.  
>  Inks: (((Threshold of 3. I haven't actually BUILT it yet, but I can carry this design forward into other buildings too))  
>  Inks: (I assume a retrofit of this style would take week intervals as well, so with CNNT, a few day. Will I be interrupted Y/N?))  
>  ST: ((Excellent. Stepping back for a moment, the current Resources system is just... borked. I have ideas in that direction, but for now we'll say that with just two okidaci, you're getting about Res 3, quite a bit of which is going towards feeding Maji. I don't think we actually described IC the process between the summon bit and tower, but I suppose this game has the OOC discussion on "I do this" "that happens" take up a fair bit - more like at-table gameplay. Cool. You will not be interrupted during the AC installation - are you still staying at the Dream of Flesh?))  
>  Inks: ((Hmm. For now I am not, though I do take the time to visit and convert gemstones into cash to pay Ahlam back. I want to maintian a good relationship so if I do go back, I will. right now I don't trust the workshop alone, and I'm casting Skin of Bronze twice a day to handle the heat))  
>  Inks: ((If the installation of the AC is Diff 2 or less, I can handwave it))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Call it Diff 3 - this is a more complex operation which required precision, and isn't just making four walls and a roof. Your design gives you a 3-dice bonus.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +3; Inks rolled [1, 4, 7, 7, 5, 7, 3, 4, 5, 1, 7, 6] for a compiled value of 7.  
>  Inks: ((Alright. So now I have a much more mangably cool workshop, though I assume it's still swelteringly hot most of the time))  
>  ST: ((Huge success. It's still hot inside because of the okidaci and... well, in general. But its default sans-demons is now more "summer's day in a temperate country" than "argh I burn and melt". Now, two problems to contend with.))  
>  Inks: ((I am besides myself with anticipation))  
>  ST: ((To the first, it has been a month. In that time, the neomah on your roof has - thrice - assembled a small creature from scraps of flesh and, uh... other bodily contributions donated to it, and cast it into the fire at the top of her tower, where it has breathed new life. In this case her only customers have been heranhal, so in all three cases it has been a purebred heranhal. An unbound one.))  
>  ST: ((What has Inks been doing with these newborns?))  
>  ST: ((And yeah, you're going to be getting about one a week.))  
>  ST: ((It'll try to produce hybrids once it has more than one species of customer, and has probably made a few passes at Inks.))  
>  Inks: ((hmm. Well, I have the obvious two solutions of 'emerald Circle Banishment' and 'Chronicle'. Can I roll int+occult for more ideas?))  
>  ST: ((... well, there's always "boot it over the crater rim and let it try its luck in the desert", but no, that's pretty much it as far as options go.))  
>  ST: ((Actually, Chronicle is your Banishment Anchor, so it's more like "Chronicle the nice way" or "Chronicle the hard way".))  
>  ST: ((: P))  
>  Inks: ((Correct, but yes, let's assume that I've been banishing the unbound demons.))  
>  ST: ((Cool. Secondly, and related to your second question; roll me Per+Awa for PICKING UP ON RUMOURS.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +1; Inks rolled [2, 8, 7, 5, 1, 6] for a compiled value of 3.  
>  Inks: ((Also its worth noting htat I've been running my anima a lot while indoors to regen motes))  
>  ST: ((Yes, I'd factored that in. How high have you been going with it? Caste mark, bonfire or totemic? The last of which is a pillar of light that shines through the roof of the building and is visible for miles, so presumably not that one.))  
>  Inks: ((Bonfire, yes))  
>  Inks: ((I generally make a point not to go outside while blatantly anathema, just yet))  
>  ST: ((Is she making any effort to hide her looks - wearing a burnoose and face-scarf or hijab, etc?))  
>  Inks: ((No. She is outwardly gorgeous and often Bronze for this whole period)  
>  ST: ((Oh boy.))  
>  Inks: ((Silly ST, you think I want to play a STEALTHY Solar?!))  
> 

There were definitely rumours about her, Inks knew. She was fairly sure Ahlam had informed the House of Sahlak of her intentions, because she noticed people tailing her now and then when she bought food for Maji. Many of the rumours were in fact _about_ Maji, because tales of a gorgeous woman with a giant apex predator following her around spread quickly. But there were more than just that.

She turned heads wherever she went about her beauty and bronze skin both, and Maji's favourite girl at the Dream of Flesh pulled her aside one day to warn her that tales of the gorgeous sorceress had reached the ears of Rankar himself - or so it was said. In other places - especially near her workshop - she heard uneasy stirrings about a tower being built in a matter of days that was the equal of palace stonework and craft. Strange lights came from within it at night, people muttered, and it was the entrance to a shadowland mine - or perhaps even a shadowland itself!

In fact, within a month of her arrival, Inks found that most of the city had heard of her, and much of the talk wasn't good. Who was this sorceress; people asked? Who was this woman of such unnatural beauty, who spent her time in a strange and frightening place, accomplished impossible feats of construction, flaunted herself as a sorcerer and was accompanied by a savage beast? What did she want? What were her plans? Was she a threat? House Sahlak seemed not to have shared her plans, as far as she could tell, but in some ways that only made people more suspicious, and their imaginations ran wild. She was the escaped lover of a coastal god, the last survivor of a Dynastic House she had tried to murder, a scout from the mountain lords sent to infiltrate the city, an envoy of the gods hear to wipe out the Ragged, she wasn't human at all but rather an elemental queen in disguise...

Apparently, by the end of the month, someone had had enough, because there a heavy hand hammered on the door of her workshop one morning. Double-checking that the main crafting room was out of sight behind the inside porch she'd set up, Inks opened it to a brusque female mercenary who gave her a letter and left.

A letter that invited her, in pleasant language that made clear it was no invitation, to visit the Despot's palace. At her earliest convenience. Today.

>   
>  ST: ((You have drawn a lot of attention. Like. A _lot_.))  
>  ST: ((And I think that's a good place to end session))  
>  Inks: ((yaaaay!! XP rewards?))  
>  ST: ((4xp + 1mxp + another general xp for _sheer blatant audacity_.))  
>  ST: ((... actually, +2 general xp for audacity))  
>  ST: ((holy shit Inks))  
>  Inks: (Hahaha. No sorcerous xp?)  
>  ST: ((Oh, true, you've been summoning. Yeah, take 2 Sxp then.))  
>  Inks: 1/2 Mortal XP  
>  Inks: 10/10 Enlightened XP  
>  Inks: 2/2 Sorcerous XP  
>  Inks: but seriously, you're surrpised by my audacity?  
>  ST: ... no, not really.  
>  ST: But I was a bit taken aback by the speed of your escalation.  
>  ST: For reference, your +Rumours/-Rumours list is something like  
>  ST: Gorgeous +++  
>  ST: Sorcerer +++  
>  ST: Too-fast tower ++  
>  ST: TIGER ++  
>  ST: Weird lights +  
>  ST: Edge of town -  
>  ST: so uh  
>  ST: yeah  
>  ST: +10 Rumours -> literally the whole city is buzzing about you  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice numerous mentions of houserules- as editing passes continue, I will update the notes at chapter end with summaries.


	3. Session 3: A Meeting with the Despot

To the summons, Inks blinked once, twice. And then swore. "Maji!" Her tiger heaved himself to his paws, stretching lazily but with an unmistakable power. "Business time!" 

Having made that declaration, she threw on her admittedly rough traveling clothes and hopped on to Maji's shoulders, standing upright in proper defiance of any sane riding posture. Her balance was perfect, no matter how the tiger moved. With a word, she pointed him back to the Dream of Flesh, bounding through street and alleyway. and the sanctuary of Sahlak Ahlam - She all but breezed past the guard and with no small amount of urgency and a bit of understandable begging, asked for help in dressing to meet the Despot. "I will make it up to you, with interest!" she promised. 

Apparently Ahlam had been listening to the rumours as well, because he didn't seem at all surprised to find her at his door, and displayed even less surprise upon hearing of her summons to meet the Despot. After ascertaining exactly what kind of an impression it is she wanted to make, he called down two of his girls - Maji's favourite and a slightly older one - to deal with her makeup and hair while he sorted through clothes. The Dream of Flesh had a wide variety of outfits, that seemed to cater to every level of class, though finding ones that fit Inks was a little more of a challenge.

"Do you intend to take your companion into your audience?" he asked with a quizzically quirked eyebrow, coming back in from the wardrobe room with a fourth and final dress and hanging it up next to the other three. He hummed critically and pushed one of the others to the side. "Not that one," he murmured. "One of these, then. Or is he merely accompanying you to the door? And what _have_ you been doing in that tower of yours? The talk of the town is all aflutter about you."  
  


>   
> ST: ((You can stunt Inks' mode of dress and general aesthetic impression as you like.))  
> ST: ((Within reason; no gems the size of hen eggs :P.))  
> 

Inks smiled as the ladies worked around her, with her preference towards the various silk gowns and dresses that were cut high up both legs and exposed as much of her back as plausible. From a small pouch at her side, she pulled forth an uncut ruby the size of her fist. "I've been making these." She smiled, looking across at Ahlam past dark sooty lashes. She was aiming for 'socialite', disarmingly sexy. In a very real sense Inks expected people to assume she was a secretary when in fact she was the lord.

"Maji goes where I go." She added. "You never walk alone in Nexus and I see no reason to walk alone in Gem."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Reflexive Perception+Socialise to read his reaction to her claim.))  
> Inks: ((1st Excellency, 5+1+6))  
> Inks: ((4 successes))  
> ST: ((... also, by RAW that's a Res 5 gemstone, where we said she was producing a Res 3 resource stream. Fuck, "very large" rubies of over 7 carats that end up in royal families or museums are maybe the size of a thumbnail. A _fist-sized_ jewel is like the goddamn Hope Diamond.))  
> ST: (( http://www.shopgemstones.com/ruby-size.html ))  
> Inks: ((Gotcha, my bad))  
> ST: ((NP. Heh. Just say it's a handful of small ones, which is in some ways equally impressive - it shows she can manufacture them. :D))  
> Inks: ((Legit. Fistfull as opposed to fist-size))  
> Inks: ((Anyway, carry on!))  
> Inks: ((I think for the sake of economy-of-screentime, these scenes with Ahlam and his establishment could count as intimacy-building with either him or the court itself. ))  
> ST: ((: 3))  
> 

Ahlam's eyebrows rose, but Inks was watching the muscles around his eyes and the tiny vibrations of the skin over his pulse. He wasn't surprised. At a guess, he'd already suspected she was manufacturing gems somehow and she'd only confirmed it for him. He did look fascinated, though, and carefully picked up a small example to hold to the light before delicately putting it back with a wary glance at Maji.

His girls were rather less controlled in their reactions. Maji's favourite dropped a pair of hair pins with a gasp, and the other one jolted backwards into a stool.

"Incredible," Ahlam murmured. "I don't suppose you'd care to share _how_...?" He left the question hanging with a charming insincerity. 

"Trade secret-" She winked, before sobering. "And for now you're better off not knowing."

Turning to a mirror, she checked her appearance from head to toe, twisting at the waist to test the fit. "Very nice. Thank you all."  
  


>   
> Inks: ((Can Inks just give them the gemstones as payment/downpayment, and not cause them trouble?))  
> Inks: ((Like, they don't need anything special to sell the gems to the Despot, as far as I remember?))  
> ST: ((... hmm. Inks is of the opinion that as long as a) she isn't getting any money from doing so and b) they _do_ sell them to the Despot's monopoly rather than trying to take them out of the city, it'll be legal. The monopoly is largely set up so that all of the gem trade money goes through Rankar - as long as it isn't diverting money away from him, loopholes are likely to be ignored even if they're technically infringements.)  
> ST: ((Under that logic it's equivalent to her selling them to the Despot and then giving them the money, after all, which Rankar doesn't really care about.))  
> 

He dipped his head with a wry smile. "Of course. In that case, my lady, it would be wise for you to be on your way. I hope you'll visit again afterwards? I do look forward to hearing how it went."

Inks nodded, and made a point to press the half-open pouch of rubies into Ahlam's hands. "A down payment- I trust you'll deal with it carefully?" Without waiting for an answer, she waved Maji onward and headed out the door to the Despot's palace.

* * *

The home of the Despot was built at the northern edge of the crater in which Gem lay; huddled against the looming peak of the mountain like a stony outcropping at the bottom of a miles-high tree. It was an impressive sight. The sun had travelled far enough on its daily journey from East to West that its light no longer reached the palace walls round the edge of the Peak, and so they were wreathed in shadow. And yet the palace shone. Literally. The gloom it should have languished in was pierced by a steady glow - a glow which resolved itself as Inks approached into a thousand points of light all along the walls. Glowstones, pressed into the stone, ranging from red to yellow to white to blue. The different colours formed patterns along the high ramparts, which cut the palace proper off from the rest of the city. Inks could see guards patrolling along them from the road. Armed ones.

There were guards at the gate as well; mercenaries whose reaction to Maji was less terrified than the civilians who'd seen him since Inks had arrived in the city. They stood a little straighter, gripped their spears a little tighter and loosened their firewands in their holsters, but waved her through without bothering to confirm who she was or why she was there. A slave was waiting in the entrance hall to take her to her audience - young, attractive and female. 

Inks sucked her teeth quietly and frowned...  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled [7, 5, 1] for a compiled value of 1.  
> Inks: ((That was Compassion... and Inks doesn't much like slavery.))  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Nodding to herself, course of action set, she caught the slave's eye, a plan half formed. "Lead the way, please."

Bowing quietly, the girl led the way through a series of corridors that Inks was fairly sure was meant to disorient her, emerging into a small room lit by red glowstones and decorated with tapestries depicting fantastical scenes of battle between strange beasts and warriors that must have come either from the Wyld or the dreams of an inventive mind. Seats lined the walls, and a stone table held bowls of rice and fruit, a plate of meat skewers and a jug of wine.

"Please refresh yourself as you wait," the girl murmured; her eyes on the floor. "The Despot will see you shortly. I will notify him you are here." 

Inks took a seat, and waved Maji forward with a deceptively playful sounding purr and meaningful waggle of her eyebrows. The guards shifted fitfully in response as the tiger padded forward to the table, sniffing loudly at the fragrant wines and succulent cuts of meat. Inks trusted her tiger's nose far more than her own at this stage, as well.  
  


>   
> Inks: ((Stunting to see if anything's poisoned or tampered with. Maji has a better per+surv pool than Inks, and Inks can roll Per+Med?))  
> [12:49] ST: ((Sure thing.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 "Maji"; Inks rolled [2, 5, 6, 2, 6, 9, 4, 7, 6, 10] for a compiled value of 4.  
> Inks: !ex 10 "Inks"; Inks rolled [9, 10, 1, 9, 10, 6, 2, 1, 5, 6] for a compiled value of 6.  
> ST: ((Nothing seems to be poisoned or tainted, though Inks' inner nutritionist is making snide comments on what so much salted meat must do to the digestive system.))  
> ST: ((... actually, hmm.))  
> ST: ((Yeah, okay, 6 is enough and she's looking for this sort of thing. Inks /does/ suspect that the red lighting in the room and the scenes of violence on the tapestries are meant to prime her to be nervous and off her game a little - likely there are multiple waiting rooms with a range of "friendliness".))  
> Inks: ((Funny that her medical insight is noting this, but sure, psychology is medical))  
> ST: ((Yeah, that was my thought, and you got a better-than-legendary success.))  
> Inks: ((Is the food safe to eat for an Exalt Y/N?))  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

Scooping up a crystal goblet of wine, Inks idly nursed it, watching the red liquid swirl in the glass as she waited. After a few moments, she spoke aloud to the air. "Time is money, and you're wasting both of ours."

She wasn't left waiting for very long. It was a little less than ten minutes later that the slave girl returned to lead her into a much larger chamber as a group of what look like wealthy merchants left it; led by a short and elderly woman with skin like scorched leather. She ceased scowling long enough to give Inks an assessing look at they passed, but didn't break her stride or say anything.

This hall was much bigger than her waiting room. There was another table of food to her left, and a trio of slave-girls from three different ethnicities performed a slow dance to her right in clothing that left little to the imagination. The walls were lined with curtains that draped and hung to soften the straight stone surfaces, and the floors were carpeted with thick mats. Most of Inks' attention, though, is on the raised dais against the far wall, and the jewel-studded golden throne at its centre, and the man who sat there. 

This was the Despot of Gem; Rankar the Seventh. He was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, with a short beard and moustache. Expensive robes hid much of his figure, but Inks thought there was a certain softness to his middle - though given the sword scar across one eyebrow, it was perhaps a mistake to rule him out as a physical threat. A quartet of mercenaries shifted almost but not quite between them as she reached the bottom of the steps up to the dais; easily able to interpose themselves if she tried to go any further. There were others in the room, armed with crossbows, standing discreetly between wall hangings. Most of them, Inks noted, were watching Maji. But the man on the throne wasn't.

He was watching her, and considered her for a long moment with a narrow gaze as the slave girl curtseyed to him and scurried off to one side at his nod. She returned seconds later with a tray, which she presented to Inks. A selection of the gemstones she'd sold lay on it - mostly agates and quartzes, with a few emeralds and a pair of small sapphires.

"These are not from my mines," Rankar remarked conversationally. "May I ask where you got them from?" 

"I've been making them." Inks admitted without much preamble. She crossed one leg over the other, still holding the goblet in one hand while her other toyed with the slit of her dress. Maji pressed himself against her side, supporting her more than the chair did and pointedly interposing himself between half the crossbow bolts and Inks herself.

He nodded. "I had guessed as much. How?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Inks offered instead.

"Yes."

Despite his dispassionate tone, Inks could see his eyes moving across her dress; especially the slits near her thighs. There was definitely desire there, but it was being controlled - for the moment.

Inks hummed, tapping her lip with one finger. "You're asking me to give up a trade secret, which essentially prints money for you." She pointed out. "I make uncut gems, you buy them from me, you cut them and sell them back at wonderful markup. I profit and you profit."

A faint smile made an appearance, and he refocused on her face. "And yet the mines are predictable. My assessors can judge their output, plot their value and limit their production if necessary. A source of created gemstones that can be set up in a week, potentially without a limit on its capacity, could very well destabilise the jewel market if I let it run without supervision. If supply outstrips demand, profits dwindle. So I really think I must ask again." His tone firmed. "How?"

"I think you should not insult my intelligence by assuming I haven't considered supply and demand." Inks smiled despite her choice of words. "You have not offered me anything other than thinly veiled threats and some psychological trickery to convince me to share this with you- and _you have witnesses in this room_." 

"My method requires a particular set of talents yes, but ones that are not at all unique across Creation. I explain my method here, you risk it leaving your palace."

The Despot's gaze narrowed further at her accusation, but he held up a hand as his mercenaries shifted in reaction to the force behind her words. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne, and seemed to find something in her explanation that satisfied him.

"You have considered supply and demand," he said, conversational again. "And yet, with a method of producing a steady stream of jewels with nothing but a month's work and a tower, you come to _Gem_ , of all places." He leaned forward to better look at her. "You are a study in contrasts, Miss Inks. You spend your first night in the city at a pleasure house, yet buy an empty building on the outskirts in which to stay. You seclude yourself in it for days on end, yet act to draw the eyes of the entire city whenever you emerge. And you come to a city so overflowing with gems that it is named for them with a means of making more. Yet you are clearly not a fool. What is it you want here? What are you goals? You are fast becoming influential while remaining mysterious - and I find such people dangerous."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Per+Soc to judge his sincerity/motives if she wishes.))  
> 

Inks shifted in her seat, twisting in such a way that she leaned into Maji's side as if he were a particularly impressive couch, and making a point to re-cross her legs as she did so. All the while she watched the Despot over the rim of her glass, smiling with painted lips and good cheer. He was not wrong, and she had to admit to herself in hindsight, some of it wasn't exactly well thought out- but she was just having too much fun to stop now.

>   
> Inks:((Stunted per+soc, stunt bonus?))  
> ST: ((Yeah, 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 9 +1; Inks rolled [9, 8, 1, 7, 8, 2, 9, 9, 6] for a compiled value of 7.  
> 

He was worried, Inks thought. He valued his control of the city enormously, but equally strong was his natural caution. The two combined to make him extremely wary of wildcards like her - enough that he was focused more on the threat she might represent than her looks. Her sudden appearance and rapid ascent had him suspicious that she held designs on his position, or at least that she meant to shake his power. And the fact that he knew her to be a sorceress probably wasn't helping his paranoia, though he seemed to have decided that her gem production was sorcerous in some way and thus not easily scaled to mass production.

>   
> ST: ((Inks can tell that he has strong Intimacies towards "being the Despot of Gem" and "Political Temperance" - 4 dots each, by the Principle system - and a slightly weaker one towards "Vice (young flesh)".))  
> Inks: ((Nice))  
> ST: ((Yeah, he'd displayed all three and you rolled well.))  
> 

Having judged his motives, Inks hummed again. "To answer your question- My goal is to raise a merchantile empire the likes of which Creation has never seen. I'm here in Gem because I like the climate." She waved at the platter of uncut gems he had presented. "I have no starting capital or line of credit, so I needed to build a seed fund before properly incorporating myself."

>   
> ST: ((If you're trying to soothe his fears, roll the relevant pool for it - probably Charisma+Presence, though the right stunt could justify another social stat.))  
> ST: ((You can act like you have your flirty-presence style as a specialty for now; you've got a pretty good idea of the kind of behaviour it encourages.))  
> 

Seeking to put his mind at ease, Inks turned on the charm just a bit more- she reached for a nearby bowl of cherries and nipped one free of its stem. "So just to make it clear, I am interested Gem as a place of business, it is an economic hub through which a great deal of wealth flows." She pressed the second cherry to her lips with a smile.

>   
> Inks: ((Cha 2 +Presence 2, +3 style dice, +4d from 1st excellency))  
> ST: ((Counts as a 2-dot stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 13; Inks rolled [1, 7, 7, 1, 6, 1, 6, 10, 3, 3, 7, 3, 9] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

His eyes lingered on her mouth as he considered her words for a long moment. After an agonisingly long pause for thought, he nodded once.

"I will set limits on gem production," he said. "To prevent market instability. Excess gems will be destroyed, but you have license to sell your created stones to my slaves below that cap. Do you find this acceptable?"

"Counter-offer." Inks grinned. "Excess gems can be turned to industrial uses or otherwise not circulated through the primary gem trade. Might I have a piece of paper and something to write with?"

He waved lazily at the slave who'd brought her in, and she set the tray down and hurried off, quickly returning with writing materials.

Rankar's eyes didn't follow her; remaining fixed on Inks. 

With paper and brush in hand, Inks smiled graciously at the girl before putting pigment to page. Her hand was deft and fast, drawing out line after line in minutes. "Just laying out some terms in proper language..." She winked, writing without looking at the page. The drafted contract took shape before their eyes.  
  


>   
> Inks: ((Whirling Brush Method, Int+Bur to write a contract that makes us both happy))  
> ST: ((2-dot stunt. Like I said earlier, you can mostly assume that you can hit that level consistently unless I veto.))  
> Inks: ((Forgot))  
> Inks: !ex 9 +1; Inks rolled [2, 10, 2, 5, 5, 9, 7, 6, 7] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

His gaze sharpened again from lingering on the lines of her dress to an evaluative look as he read through the contract - and he read it in full, rather than skimming over sections or leaving it to someone else - but apart from a few minor quibbles over technical points, he seemed pleased with it.

"I've only one last addendum-" Inks added. "The young woman who escorted me here. I would like her as well."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Bur to evaluate the price of the gal , 9d again)  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks rolled [6, 7, 1, 6, 2, 10, 8, 6, 10] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

This seems to be the first thing that visibly surprises Rankar in the conversation, more from the unexpectedness of the request than anything. He looks the slave-girl up and down dismissively, and shrugs. "As you wish. Would you like a man or two for labour as well? Or someone to tend to your beast there?" He nodded at Maji.

ST: ((Inks suspects she's probably only highish Res 2 - not particularly skilled at anything, useful mostly for errand-running, with her attractiveness as her most distinctive feature - from what she's seen, Rankar prefers that most of the slaves who have positions he sees be pretty. She's certainly worth little enough that Rankar isn't bothered by giving her away, and is willing to throw in a couple more slaves as a calculated gesture of generosity.)) 

"Generous." Inks offered him a broad, winsome smile and accepted the offer. With the formalities out of the way, she stood and bowed in the admittedly shallow, Nexian manner she was raised on, before asking to be excused. "I'll collect my new employees as I leave, thank you~!"


	4. Session 4: Six months in, Sulieman Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A six month timeskip brings Suleiman back into the spotlight! We're coming up on Calibration- the end of the Creation year.

### A brief Interlude

Between last session and this one, there was a period of planning and discussion that covered a number of ideas and projects. At that time, my Storyteller and I were still settling on the mechanics of dramatic play- so an abrupt, 6 month timeskip was the result. 

Part of the efforts included the development of more demon industries, using Herenhals, Neomah and more to make Hepatizon, a thaumaturigical material refined from blood, bronze and bile. (Demons, so classy). Another was the purchase and construction of Inks's new home- a townhouse in the industrial neighborhood of Gem. There may be other elements of Session '3.5' that may only be inferred by context. 

Also important was the introduction of Three Jeweled Bank, who helped Inks get started with a loan, and House Bhasulus, an architectural firm she joined as a consultant, whichi justified her starting Resource ratings (and helped feed Maji).

* * *

It's been a hard, hot six months, and Calibration is rapidly approaching by the time Inks completes her grand townhouse. The work has been hard and gruelling, but ultimately worthy it.

As the weather becomes hotter than ever in the last month of Fire, she's glad to have a cool place away from her okidaci to stay that's all her own. 

What seemed like the last of her loan was just enough to buy the somewhat less expensive raw materials required to furnish her home- expansive awnings that would cover the interior courtyard and keep it even more pleasantly cool during the hot months. She crafted them herself, along with chairs, cushioned seats and her own admittedly indulgent bed. She all but flopped into the finished piece of furniture and let out a gusty sigh. 

"Carsa." She hummed. "Mind the door please, and tell me if anyone important comes knocking." The three slaves Inks had been given were circumspectly freed and employed, after convincing them that she was not going to do anything untoward. The sounds of a Harpist playing the strings of time trilled faintly through the property, slow and relaxing.

Maji padded in through the wide bedroom door and laid down next to the bed, easily letting Inks's hand rest on his head.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh Inks you so tired)  
> 

"Yes ma'am," Carsa says, dipping a shallow curtsey as is her habit when acknowledging an order. "There was a message for you, ma'am. A trader sent word ahead from Sun Under Water, wanting some of your time the day after tomorrow. It was from the Al Ea caravan, he said."

Maji raises his head with an interested rumble, apparently recognising the name.

Inks blinked once. Twice.  
  


>   
> Inks: Int Lore to remember)  
> Inks: !ex 7; [5, 9, 1, 1, 4, 5, 5] for a compiled value of 1.  
> Inks: (Well, it wasn't like it was a hard test)  
> ST: (Yeah, 1 sux is enough for her to remember the kooky merchant who got her started.)  
> ST: (He was pretty memorable. : P)  
> 

"Alright." Inks yawned as she sat up, rolling her shoulders as she called back to Carsa. "Send a message to my lender at Three Jewel Bank, asking if he's free tommorow. It's business time." (Speed the Wheels)

>   
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks rolled [6, 2, 2, 7, 10, 4, 2, 6, 4, 3] for a compiled value of 6.  
> Inks: (The plan is to get the marketing done 'tommorow' before Sulieman shows up)  
> 

Forn Ox is happy to see her shortly before lunch; reshuffling a meeting and welcoming his beautiful client into his office with a smile that looks decidedly out-of-place on his naturally gloomy face. "Madame Inks," he greets her. "Congratulations on the completion of your townhouse; I've been looking forward to seeing it finished. What can I do for you?"

Inks sauntered in with all due, slinky grace, though her wardrobe was still somewhat limited by her funds. She dropped into the offered seat wtih a wide grin. "I'd like to take you up on your business offer regarding my passive cooling architecture. I have some contacts at a local firm as well that have already seen it and me in action. I was hoping you could help me sort out the contractual issues with the Houses."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Plan is to get the firm I've worked with already on as the... 'sole licensee' for lack of a better term, an informal agreement, to offer the passive cooling remodelling/new construction... and have Inks be employed as a consultant? I'm not in a position to really demand 'Partner' or even Buy the firm.)  
> ST: (Well, amusingly, they kind of... need her.)  
> Inks: (Oh? Is the cooling design outside of their ability to craft?)  
> ST: (Well, what Inks has basically done is pioneer a way to set up the geomancy and dimensions inside a building to passively cool it. But it's a holistic thing - which means that you can't just copy/paste things from one building onto a different one. It's essentially as though she's invented a function that you have to plug the input variable (the house) into, and then solve to get the adjustments - which means considering the building as a whole. It's probably a Diff 3 roll to work it out for an average simple house - which means that for anything more complex, they're going to rapidly hit the point of needing to check their work against Inks' skill.)  
> ST: (And "bigger and more complex buildings" are where their highest-paying customers live.)  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so I have a critical advantage here. I still don't want to Demand much of them yet- the firm treated Inks fairly after all, so Inks will be gracious and fair The point is, Inks wants to use that firm as her 'point of sale' for the cooling design.)  
> Inks: (...Hmm. Okay, rolling int+bur +2 default stunt)  
> ST: (Go ahead.)  
> Inks: (I want to see if Inks can guess what the firm and/or banker have to offer her, so she can better name her price)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled [3, 2, 5, 10, 3, 5, 10, 5, 2, 10] for a compiled value of 6.  
> Inks: (So like, how rich is the firm, what is it good at doing, is it famous for anything?)  
> 

Form Ox nodded eagerly, and Inks thought she could see gleaming mounds of silver piling up behind his eyes. "That is certainly something we can help with," he agreed. "We can secure royalties for the method, as well as keeping the principles safe from rival firms. We'll need to..."

He continued on into technicalities and details, and Inks listened with half an ear as she considered the economics of the situation. House Bhalasus; the architectural firm she worked with to build her manor, was a good choice for this sort of venture. While it was a relatively small firm, its experimental architecture and customer base among the richer and more eccentric denizens of Gem were why she'd gone there in the first place; nobody else would have even considered building a three-storey manor on the south side of the crater above ground - much like Sahlak Tylara, they would have laughed her out of the door. 

There _were_ probably bigger, better banks than the Three Jewel to go to now that she'd proven her method worked, although Forn Ox's enthusiasm for her architectural genius would likely make him more amicable to cooperating with her than a relative stranger. 

Inks nodded mostly to herself, deciding that if Forn Ox and his bank was not big enough for her purposes, she would just improve it until it was. "I think we can proceed. Please draft a contract and have all the relevant documentation sent to my home office. I'll review it before the end of the week and have any alterations or provisos ready for your own assessment."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So, Form Ox and the Three Jewels Bank are acting as finanical backers/legal support. House Bhalasus is the actual Architectural Firm, and we're both agreed the most logical approach is 'Inks is hired on as honored top-level consultant.' Do I get any Backgrounds from this?)  
> ST: (Yeah, let's call it, hmm, Backing 3 and another Res 3 resource stream - the business itself is worth Res 4 at startup, and will probably grow larger as more people find out about it.)  
> Inks: (awesome! Not bad for effectively a day + backend work)  
> Inks: (So we can now scenebreak to the next day and Husbando)  
> ST: (I assume Inks will send someone to meet Sulieman when he arrives through the eastern gate and show him where her house is?)  
> Inks: (Yeah... Carsa.)  
> ST: (Feel free to stunt how she's posing herself when he arrives, then. : D)  
> 

The question on Inks's mind, was how to _not_ give her first real investor the wrong idea. Or, baring that, the _right_ kind of wrong idea. Grand romantic gestures were all well and good, but a little intimidating even for a woman like herself. So when Sulieman was admitted through the outer door then the inner courtyard door, Inks was there, reclining against Maji's side admidst a nest of silk pillows, with a table of fresh fruits waiting at her hand. "Heya!"

Dust-stained and sunburnt, Sulieman looked at her as though she were perhaps some manner of benevolent goddess, which alarmed Inks up until he looked at the fruit bowl as though it contained the Peaches of Heaven themselves. Remembering how she'd felt after the brutally hot, bright and sometimes skin-flaying final leg of the trade route, she guessed he'd have reacted to any source of chilled fruit and fresh water similarly. He made it through a formal greeting that was a lot less enthusiastic than she remembered him being, but conscious thought only seemed to kick in at some point after he'd gratefully drained most of a jug of water and eaten three pomegranates.

"... this is truly a grand and lavish home, beloved," he said slowly, looking around in confusion. "But I must admit to some confusion in its placement and your presence in it." He seemed to consider that for a moment, and hastily backtracked. "Not that it doesn't suit you - indeed, it might have been made for you - but it's not what I expected to see in this area of the city, and I would not have expected to find you in such rich surroundings after so short a time." 

Inks frowned for a moment, carefully looking Sulieman over and reaching out to turn his face to one side, then the other. "I designed and built it, with sorcery and a lot of money." She offered.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis, is there anything medically wrong Y/N?)  
> ST: (Yes)  
> 

Frowning harder, Inks stood up and gently pulled Sulieman to his feet, before carefully pulling him into one of the side rooms. It was not as richly furnished, but it was much cooler still and out of open view. Maji kindly prowed outside the open doorway. There, Inks put her hands on her hips. "Take off your shirt, please."

This got her a startled look and - surprisingly - a blush. Nonetheless, he complied, struggling a little to remove the sweat-soaked linen.  
  


>   
> ST: (so about that "not giving him the wrong idea :V)  
> 

"I didn't have the time or means to really make the baths I wanted- so that's a future project." She carefully examined the sun-baked skin, the strain of travel and soon. "But I do have water for washing and you're more than welcome to it." She spent five long minutes carefully reading his vitals, the pulse at his temples, and how he breathed in and out.

>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis!)  
> Inks: (So, unless I am missing some vital clue as to his malady, I spend 5 minutes accurately assessing his problems and can thus describe treatment.)  
> ST: (Yup.)  
> Inks: (So I'm guessing something basic like dehydration, bad sunburn, or is it more serious?)  
> 

His pulse was too fast. When she pinched his skin lightly, it took some time for the mark to fade. He was swaying, sweating heavily, and one of his arms wouldn't lift past his shoulder without him wincing. Inks took in these symptoms and more with a worried look, and laid a wet cloth around his neck as she tallied up her conclusions. He was dehydrated, obviously, but it also looked as though he'd worked himself into a moderate case of heatstroke. And from the tension all across his upper back and the pain in his shoulder, she could tell he'd badly sprained a muscle. Luckily, there was nothing that time wouldn't heal - as long as he stayed somewhere cool, drank enough water and kept from putting any more stress on his shoulder, he'd be fine in perhaps two weeks.

>   
> ST: (Moderate heatstroke and a sprained shoulder.)   
> 

Inks winced. "Clearly you are working too hard." She waved for Carsa, and Inks had already stocked up on some minor salves against sand and sun. "I don't have anything cold like ice for your shoulder, but-" She urged Sulieman down on a couch before begining a theraputic massage. "So other than you beating yourself up- how's the caravan life?"

"Ag, the gods were not kind this trip," Sulieman lamented. "We were plagued by sandstorms all through the Krephese leg, and one of our masts broke when we were two days out of Antefar." He motions at his shoulder. "We managed to jury-rig a fix enough to make it to the yeddim-caravans, but it wasn't a simple splint fix; it tore out the keel braces." He sighs, moving to rub his face with his bad arm and switching to the other after a wince. "We'll likely need to replace the ship in full. It's one of the older ones in our fleet... but enough about my travails. How have you risen so far with such swiftness, beloved? Wealth and sorcery? If Maji is such a token of fortune, I'm glad I gave him to you - though I suppose I might have fared better had I taken him along!"  
  


>   
> ST: (Roll me Perception+Awareness, Diff 1 for noticing something about his conclusions.)  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks rolled [6, 7, 10, 6, 10, 6, 2] for a compiled value of 5.  
> 

Inks realised, with a nervous twist, that... well, while she might have _intended_ not to send the wrong message - and her clothing was certainly modest enough that his eyes weren't wandering much - she had greeted a very tired and very sore man with fresh fruit and water after a long and arduous trip, and then had him undress and tended to his aches and pains.

With the conversation now turning to their livelihoods and work, it was not so very different from the welcome that a merchant might find waiting for him from his wife - and while Sulieman didn't seem to be harbouring thoughts of the bedchamber, he _was_ relaxing and letting his guard down more than might be expected in a relative stranger's home. He might not even realise he was doing it; as exhausted as he was.  
  


>   
> ST: (Incidentally, she can also tell that he's probably about ten minutes from falling asleep if he stays sitting down in comfort like this.)  
> 

Sulieman couldn't see it, but Inks winced, both smiling at her own unintentional domestic flirtation and the grislier parts of his story. She whispered for her Anglakaye to play a little softer, a tune to lull him further into a contentful slumber. When his breathing evened out and he slipped off completely, Inks excused herself and retired as well- wanting to get an early start the next morning and wake before he did.

That following morning, she was again in the courtyard, though a higher table had been brought out with breakfast foods, chilled water and more. Sulieman emerged from his temporary guest suite a much better-feeling man than previously. Inks was there, hair pulled up in her customary bun and pinned in place. "So how long are you staying in Gem?"  
  


>   
> ST: (Uh, honestly, he's probably not going to wake up until the afternoon, so you've got the morning free)  
> Inks: ((Then let's say it's afternoon, the point is I've got not much else to do other than tlak to him right now))  
> ST: (Fair.)  
> Inks: ((Essentially, flirtation aside, Inks does Good Things for people who do good by her, not that she needs it to always be a transaction.))  
> 

* * *

Sulieman wasted no time heading for the breakfast table, though Inks was pleased to see him obeying her instructions to stay off his bad shoulder. "Three weeks of trade, then another of supply before we set off again," he said. "Though I regret to say that I will be able to spend little of it with you, beloved. A caravan is a demanding mistress, and her leader wants for time to spend on other things." He peered around the courtyard, and from the faintly stunned expression on his face, he was starting to take in the sheer scale of the manor. "How... no, of course, you said. Sorcery." He looked at her with new eyes - a new level of respect, but also a hint of intimidation. "And money. Did my gift stretch so far?" 

"Nah." She let the Nexan lilt carry the word. "I got another loan from a local bank after I devised a means of passive geomantic archtiecture and cooling. The walls and buildings help keep the air cool here." She reached out to give Maji an affectionate scratch, smiling at how his attention was mostly on the fairly large hunk of meat in his jaws. "This one here was nearly eating me out of house and home, but I'm getting my feet under me."

"Your loan-" She continued. "Helped me set up a temporary workshop that got me my initial starting capital. I'll probably rebuild it soon." 

The cooling design definitely caught Sulieman's interest, and he said as much, but Inks could tell he wasn't really up to the effort of working into a full-blown enthusiastic fervour right now. His reaction to the loan was more nuanced.

"I would like to tell you to take what time you need, beloved," he said ruefully, "but in truth, I am glad to hear it. I may need the funds before setting off again, if I am to replace a ship." 

Inks tapped her chin, humming thoughtfully. "Actually this is an opportunity... If you're going to be here three weeks-" She snapped her fingers, grinning broadly. You focus on sourcing goods for trade- and feel free to talk to the Three Jewels Bank; they've been good to me and I imagine they'll be good to you. Find Form Ox and tell him I sent you." 

Rubbing her hands together, Inks grinned. "I'll see about getting your ships repaired."  
  


>   
> [12:06] Inks: ((So I need... 3xp to buy to Craft 5, and then 8xp to buy Crack-Mending Technique, which I have. Hmm... Learning CMT would take 10 days of the 21))  
> [12:07] Inks: ((by RAW it lets me do [Essence x3] hours of work per hour, but we agree that's fiddly and obnoxious, so instead we'll do it more like the CNNT rewrite- reduces repair interval by one step?))  
> [12:08] Inks: (...hm, wait, no, I don't have enough XP. I misread)  
> [12:08] ST: (How much do you have?)  
> [12:08] Inks: (I would by endof this session though)  
> [12:08] Inks: (2 mortal, 5 enlightened, 4 sorcerous)  
> [12:08] ST: (Yeah, feel free.)  
> [12:09] ST: (In general, I'll let you buy things with xp you're getting for that session if it's appropriate.)  
> [12:09] Inks: (Cool, i'll figure out final tabulation by end of session. I still feel fine promising this to Sulieman though)  
> [12:09] Inks: (So what's his reaction to 'miracle repair offer'?)  
> [12:10] ST: (... and yeah, you have CNNT for "lol I can work as though I have better tools than I do for repair".)  
> [12:11] Inks: (I did not even realize they combo'd that well... Actually,maybe we need to rethink some things.... I'll get you a draft sometime after session for updated Charms/ideas))  
> 

Sulieman blinked at her in surprise for a moment, then split into a beaming smile and almost drew her into an embrace before checking himself. "Excellent, my love! I will show you where our caravan is set. Ah, though I would implore you to take Maji when you go - there are many of dubious means between there and here, and this is an area rife with the wretched and the Ragged as it is. One of them even attempted to accost your servant and I on our way here!"

>   
> ST: (How much attention has Inks been paying to the, hmm, the less-well-off and the homeless of Gem?)  
> Inks: (Sadly not much, mostly because I didn't even know there are any until you just said so. Logically there should have been, but I didn't see any on camera.)  
> 

To Sulieman, Inks nodded graciously. "I'll do that. Though I'll probably be just as likely to hire the first person to try and rob me as anything..."  
"I mean-" she continued. "If they dare going after me while _he's_ at my side." She threw her arms around Maji's neck, laughing. "I want that kind of bravery on my payroll."

>   
> ST: (She can roll Per+Awa to notice something about his phrasing at Diff 2.)  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks rolled [4, 1, 8, 5, 2, 9, 7] for a compiled value of 3.  
> 

Something about the way Sulieman said the 'Ragged' tickled at her memory - she's heard that word before, muttered in corners as something more than just an adjective. As a noun referring to a group of some kind.

>   
> Inks: (Int lore + that 1d from walking Gem around)  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks rolled [3, 9, 2, 7, 6, 3, 9, 6, 6] for a compiled value of 3.  
> Inks: (Who are the Ragged?)  
> 

... yes, Inks remembered. They Ragged were... one of the homeless groups of Gem's streets. Monks of some kind? No, priests, that was it. Followers of some forgotten religion that was suppressed by a Despot last century, if she recalled correctly. They dressed in rags and their traditions and worship were spoken of in the same breath as vagrancy and criminality and prostitution by the citizens of Gem. Come to think of it, she did remember seeing more than a few tattered-looking figures gawping at her house while it was being built. It's not surprising that an out-group like that would be pushed into this part of the city.

>   
> Inks: (int+occult about their religion?)  
> ST: (Probably not applicable - she hasn't really been in a position to pick up on it much. General blessing and exorcism stuff that most religions can do seems to be under their remit, given some of the things they carry, but beyond that she can't say.)  
> Inks: (Gotcha, will have to take a more dedicated action then or see them in person)  
> Inks: (I think that's about it for today's session, unless you have another idea?)  
> ST: (Seems about right.)  
> ST: (4xp, 1mxp)  
> Inks: Today was fun, thank you for running!  
> ST: No problem! Fun for me as well!  
> 


	5. Session 5: A Day in the Shipyards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inks visit the shipyards, and starts paying back what she owes Suleiman - along with a Dramatic Reveal!

Sulieman's caravan was secured on Seventh Scorpion Road; almost directly west across the city from Inks' manor. The Firepeaks dominated the horizon before her as she headed that way, and a belching column of smoke rising above them spoke to another eruption from some distant volcano - the fourth to occur since her arrival some two seasons prior.  
  


>   
> Inks: (ominious)  
> ST: (If you like. Also just backdrop setting-dressing. Welcome to the South!)  
> ST: (Where volcanic eruptions in the distance mean resetting the "X weeks since..." calendar, which never goes into double digits.)  
> 

Inks smoothed out her rougher, more workmanlike dress, beating the dust from the fabric before taking in the scene before her. she hadn't seen much of sandships up close, having stuck to more familiar caravans and her own two feet on the trip to Gem. The general idea was the same as any other sailing or towed vessel though. The main differences were in the hulls and outriggers that kept the ships 'afloat' on the rolling sandseas.  
  


>   
> ST: (just to interject)  
> ST: (these are designed so that the outrigger-rails can be pulled up and the sails stowed to converted the sandship into a wheeled yeddim-drawn caravan when on rock, which is the configuration they're in atm)  
> Inks: (I remember.)  
> 

  
  
Her eyes roved the docks looking for Sulieman's company sigil. She had no idea how many ships and haulers were in his fleet, but she could pick out the 'flagship' fairly easily. Making her way through the press of humanity- hauling varied cargo and raw materials, she reached up and tapped the burly repair foreman on his shoulder. "I'm Inks- here to help get your fleet back in shape."

The foreman started to look her up and down in what was probably supposed to be a dismissive gesture, and got stuck halfway through 'down'.  
  


> 11:11 ST: (does she have Maji with her?)  
> 11:11 Inks: (Hmm, not today).  
> 

  
  
Inks smiled despite herself and reached up to lift his chin. "Eyes up, my friend. It's business time."

"You... uh..." he stuttered to an area somewhat south of her face, before dragging his eyes upwards again with a leer. "You don't look like much of a shipbuilder, missie. I can show you how it's done, though, if you'd like..."

"I'm a hands-on learner." Truly he made it too easy. "I recall there was a broken mast?"

This drew a blink and a slow frown. "... hang on..." he said, and beckoned a thinner man over; bald and heavily tattooed with jagged reddish patterns. After a quick exchange in which Inks caught the words "the boss" and "sorceress", the foreman returned looking slightly less skeptical.

Slightly.

"It's... this way," he told her, doubt still clear in his voice. "The _Wagn-Na'i_."

The _Wagn-Na'i_ turned out to be an aging ship whose metal runners were pitted and dented. The mast had been disassembled; its top sections removed and stowed under the wagon along with most of the contents of the top deck. The thick iron plate thus revealed - the breastbone of the ship, larger than a grown man's torso - had a large crack running through it, and the wood around its anchor points was splintered and torn.

Inks sucked her teeth. "Right, this is unacceptable." She cast about for tools, before snatching up a steel-headed hammer from a nearby box. Focusing her will and Essence, she strode forward and struck the iron plate. The ringing peal echoed over the dockyard, and for a moment silenced the crowd... "A perfect strike makes a perfect mark... You- And all of you over there!" She called out to a handful of laborers, hands heavy with tools. 

"All of you, strike and move on my count!" She raised her hammer again, and the symbol on her brow gleamed faintly.  
  


>   
> 11:24 Inks: (Repair Action! CNNT + CMT and likely excellency. I am invoking the laborers as Teamwork Bonuses and the hammer as a +1 tool. What is the Difficulty?)  
> 11:25 ST: ((Hmm. Let's go with Diff 4 - normally damage like this would be melted down and recast.))  
> 11:25 Inks: (Alright, how many laborers did I get, 1-5?)  
> 11:28 ST: (I considered having you ROLL TO INSPIRE, but let's be honest here - the foreman is only vaguely aware of who Inks is from the rumour mill, but the general labourers gossip and gawp like nobody's business, and they've heard of the woman who pulled a mansion up from the rock. You've got enough to qualify for 5 dice, and have... uh... probably rather disrupted all other activity in the shipyard.)  
> 11:29 Inks: (I'm okay with that, rolling! Let's crunk. Int 5 + Craft 5 + 5team +3 tool (upgraded twice by charms), and 5 autosux from 2nd ex)  
> 11:29 Inks: (and +2 stunt)  
> 11:29 Inks: !ex 20 +5; Inks rolled 7, 3, 8, 8, 5, 9, 4, 10, 10, 2, 7, 4, 1, 8, 9, 3, 7, 7, 6, 6 for a compiled value of 18.  
> 11:29 ST: (Haha, wtf)  
> 11:30 Inks: (So... threshold 14. I win.)  
> 11:30 ST: (inprog)  
> 

  
  
The laborers obeyed her. Indeed, they fell over themselves to offer their help to the gorgeous woman who pulled a mansion up from the bare stone over on Eighth; grabbing whatever tools they could lay their hands on and dropping their assigned tasks to get closer. Under her direction, they swarmed the Wagn-Na'i, decoupled the iron plate from the deck and hauled it to a clear space to work on it. 

Braziers were lit to heat the metal, and Inks hijacked a glass shipment being unloaded from another fleet to rig up an improvised lens, catching the rays of the morning sun before it passed behind the Peak and focusing them on the cracks to heat it faster. Soon the plate was glowing a cherry-red, and the genius craftswoman led her helpers in a ringing chorus of hammerblows that welded the metal back together; every strike part of a perfect beat that encouraged the iron to regain its proper, flawless form.

While it cooled, Inks turned her attention to the splintered deckplate itself. The coupling points where finger-thick iron bolts attached the plate to the wood were torn and splintered, but to a mind like Inks' that was no matter. Wood was once a living thing; able to heal and knit together just like bone and flesh. An improvised glue mix to saturate the open gashes before realigning the broken plants, the proper angle and compression of the wood, and a touch of essence as she pressed each splinter home... once the glue finished drying slowly in the baking heat of the next few days, it would be stronger than it was fresh-cut.

Of course, even with supernal skill it wasn't a job of mere moments. Wiping off her brow, Inks supervised the hoisting of the cooled metal breastplate back up onto the deck of the Wagn-Na'i as the sun began its final descent towards the horizon. Each bolt slid home with a perfect fit, and she tightened the last one herself before jumping down to a bellow of raucous cheers from the work crews she'd appropriated for the day.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Dang.)  
> Inks: (Gonna have to step up my description game)  
> ST: (: V)  
> 

  
  
"Gets some rest, all of you!" Inks laughed as the foreman heaved her up onto his shoulders, letting her sit above the crowd. "I'm going to be back here bright and early for the rest of the fleet!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (So my plan is to abstract the next ships. Assuming that they all take 1 day or less, how many ships do I have to fix? )  
> ST: (Hmm. Sulieman has a small fleet - we'll say seven total, none of them particularly large.)  
> Inks: (Alright, So if you agree, we shall advance 7 more days. if I can safely expand the heranhal force, I'll do so at night after finishing work on the ships. I also would like to start summoning Anhules; we've discussed previously that they're grimderp, but they still need a quirk or condition that isn't 'find the parents of my infant-skull and murder them'.)  
> Inks: ( A simple, obvious quirk is that they can't not spin webs to live in, which makes wherever they live kinda creepy unless you take effort to beautify it?)  
> ST: (Yeah, works fine.)  
> ST: (Feel free to go description-happy about the other ships. : D)  
> 

  
  


* * *

The next seven or so days were a blur of industry- refining the various techniques she'd pioneered the previous days, Inks revitalizedd wood until it almost seemed to grow and glow under the light of the magnified sun. Woodgrain swelled into patterns she traced with her fingers, into Old Realm blessings of strength and resilience. Metal fittings gleamed with hammermarks carved into wards against corrosion and sun damage. 

She wasn't in a position to dramatically revise their designs, but along the way she shaved down unnecessary structural members, lightening loads in one direction and making more room for cargo in the other. With a clean knife in hand, she sliced her own palm and improvised a basic offering to the ships own individual gods, and made a note to discuss with Suliman his approach to Caravan gods.  
  


>   
> ST: (There's certainly a shrine on each ship with marks of worship to various wind- and desert-spirits.)  
> Inks: (Cool)  
> 

  
  
At night, she retreated to her workshop to summon yet more demons. Three more Heranhals were added to her labor force, tasked with the refinement of their secret material Heptaizon. She did not begrudge them the lustful looks they sent her way. Between all of that she renegotiated Maji's own victuals, electing to purchase cattle both to sate her tiger's hunger and provide the Fervid Smiths the Blood and Bile they needed, along with the base Bronze.

Another wave of summoning brought forth a handful of Anuhules, Demon Spiders that she specifically summoned for their skill and talent at weaving various forms of silk. She bound them to the task of inhabiting one of her unoccupied storage rooms, with the further directive to weave extra demonic silk on spools provided.

And lastly, between _all_ of that, she made time to carefully inspect and care for her home, including the construction of a personal shrine to its own spirit. She owed her recent succeed to the success of the house itself, after all.  
  


>   
> ST: (So household gods are actually something I'm not fully read up on the behaviour of - what is it they do, exactly?)  
> ST: (I've worked out a Thing for Inks' manor, but I'm not sure how to present it.)  
> Inks: (Honeslty they're just least gods, but waaay back in inksgame planning you agreed that if I got the loyalty of one, Inks would have Well Favored Aspect)  
> Inks: (Well, maybe ot a Least god, but definitely a very focused Terrestrial God- I doubt they're awake/dialogue ready yet. I'dneed to really work hard to make that happen. At the very least, Inks has secured Ownership of her home... Right now I'm thinking that a lot of small household inconvienences stop happening. Little blessings.)  
> Inks: (Housegods are more a Japan thing than a Creation thing, but it is Animist)  
> ST: (Yeah, I recall that. Heh. Hmm. Inks doesn't really have any spirit-investigation charms beyond basic spirit-seeing - does she make a point of looking around for it?)  
> ST: (Note to self: need to make more of the fact that Inks can naturally see spirits even if they're immaterial.)  
> Inks: (The shrine exists to give it a likely place to manifest. I also forgot that you like to give essence wielders spirit-sight. I feel that's kind of a- yeah see that's kind of a mixed bag)  
> ST: (Want to remove it?)  
> Inks: (Because if you do that, the ST suddenly has to work twice as hard. Blocking 'See Gods' behind a Charm at least makes it a mnemonic device)  
> ST: (Mmm. Okay, we'll unhouserule that one. Or, hmm. Heh. Possibly make it a native power.)  
> ST: (Not a Charm, but not a passive ability either; she needs to focus her eyes _just right_.)  
> Inks: (I would... make it so that you can ROLL to see spirits with Enlightenment, like 'Valid', not 'Auto-see'?)  
> ST: (Yeah, that works.)  
> Inks: (Spirit-detecting and AESS basically go 'you see them directly)  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks rolled 6, 6, 10, 1, 8, 7, 3, 10, 7 for a compiled value of 7.  
> Inks: (That was per+aware no excellency +2 stunt)  
> 

  
  
Thinking back, Inks couldn't think of any signs she'd seen of her mansion's spirit before, and given how recently-built her new home _was_ , she suspected that one may not have been assigned yet. 'Nanda had certainly made some snide comments about how slowly Heaven worked, back when Inks was apprenticed to her. But as she went about setting up her household shrine, uttering the praise-names of the manor and sprinkling incense, she thought she saw a whispy, translucent form waver briefly above the central icon and hang in the air there for a moment before dissipating again. 

That was proof enough- and in this regard, Inks could be patient.  
  


>   
> Inks: (That reminds me, has Calibration passed?)  
> ST: (Yes, we started the game midway through Wood, so Calibration passed sometime during Session 3.5.)  
> ST: (I'll work out a timeline at some point)  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay. After Inks has had a couple days to rest, I'm going to set up a meeting with Forn Ox and House Bhalasus. i'm going to Speed the Wheels to set that up. While I'm writing that up, I'd like to see Suliman's reaction to his REPAIRED FLEET!)  
> Inks: (I'm also going to make up a House Bhalasus character for you, is that alright?)  
> ST: (Yeah, go ahead. I shall write up a Sulieman reaction.)  
> Inks: (Okay, stunt ready, lemme see what Sulieman has first)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Suleiman hadn't been exaggerating about having most of his time spoken for. Inks' week of repairs is past - and another day atop it - before he has a morning free to accompany her arm-in-arm down to the shipyard. Being peripherally aware that she _had_ sort of stolen a large fraction of the shipyard's labour force for seven days running to the detriment of other tasks, Inks elected to take Maji along to ward away any angry looks.

She then proceeds to stand and watch with a quiet smile as Suleiman almost walks straight past the Wagn-Na'i before double-taking on recognition. His eyebrows shot to his forehead, and he turned to her for a long moment, but made no comment before climbing up to inspect the site of the damage. In this, at least, his exuberant personality took a back seat to the caravan leader he must be when travelling - still loud and grandiloquent, but with a sharp eye and a hawkish cast to his features; quick to give orders and assume they'd be obeyed. He was ruthless in going over the ship from prow to stern and from mast to runner, leaving no detail unchecked and reflexively muttering prayers and pledges to various gods as he went.

Finally, he declared himself satisfied, turned to Inks and slipped back into the man she was coming to know.

"My love," he said simply and actually dropped to his knees in a sweeping bow, "you work miracles. Please, allow me to take you to dine tonight in thanks for what you have done here."  
  


>   
> ST: (Gimme a pretty easy - Diff 2 - Perception+Socialise roll.)  
> Inks: !ex 7 +1; Inks rolled 8, 4, 8, 5, 10, 8, 6 for a compiled value of 6.  
> ST: (Inks perceives that his Intimacy towards her is starting to take on tones of "My Love Can Work Wonders" - he's beginning to develop quite a strong faith that she can accomplish the impossible and do anything she sets her mind to.)  
> 

  
  
Her answering smile is honest, but Inks still winced internally. "I'd like that, but how about I make dinner- I think I should explain some things..."  
  


>   
> 12:42 Inks: (Okay small change of plans, I'll set the scene)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Not long later, as the sun was setting and the walls of her home cast long shadows over the central courtyard, Inks set the table herself with food she'd prepared by hand. It was no less miraculous than her swift repairs, and she pointedly ignored the candles on the dining table for the meal. "Sulieman- I admit I've been keeping you at arms-length for a bit." She smiled to soften the lead in. 

"I haven't had someone come on to me _quite_ as strong as you before, for one." She admitted, smiling wider. "Hell of a confidence boost, not going to lie." She poked at her plate, not really hungry. "I suppose I have three-ish reasons." She cast her eyes down at her side of the table, waiting for his response.

Suleiman spread his hands. "I know what I feel, bel- Inks," he said. "I am not one to conceal it out of fear or shame - for I am not ashamed, and if I let fear keep me from speaking my heart, I would be less a man for it. I will demand nothing, but I will make no secret to you of what I would wish, were you willing."

He leant forward, resting his elbows on the table as his face creased with a boyish grin. "I am glad to know you find my favour flattering," he added. "But the strength of my affections is but one reason. Will you share the others?" 

"Of course." She sighed, largely relieved. "So for one- I'm just not interested in settling down any time soon. You've proven yourself a great ally and are very much my friend, though. That ties into the other reason that I generally want to _do_ things. Be a mover and shaker, and being a wife- well I won't stand here and say that wives _can't_ be awesome, but I don't see myself like that just yet." She winced, wondering if leading with the two least impactful reasons was a good idea.

"The third reason is uh... more existential and spiritually damning. I'm a sorcerer and I can wield Essence, I think this is pretty obvious." She reached up to smooth back the fringe of her hair and bared her brow, where she willed the mark of the setting sun to show.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Anathema Reveal! Inks never told Sulieman directly after all.)  
> 

  
  
When she'd stepped into the cage and Maji had done no more than nuzzle her, Inks had heard Suleiman gasp with a hint of intimidation. When she'd revealed that she'd built her manor with sorcery, there had been a hint of fear to his respectful look. So she wasn't entirely surprised - a little hurt, yes, but not entirely surprised - when his reaction to the glowing golden sigil on her forehead was to flinch back violently from the table's edge, his hands coming up in a reflexive warding gesture and a curse springing from his lips. His knee banged the underside of the table hard, drawing another (fouler) curse, and his chair went tumbling back as he stood in a rush.

Maji was, without any apparent sound or movement, abruptly upright and across the room; front paws up on the table and claws digging into the surface as he reared. His teeth were bared at the man who'd originally brought him to Inks, and a snarl like a volcano's warning rumble filled the room. He was _huge_ like this - his size was always evident, but stood up on his hind legs it was terrifyingly clear that he was as massive as a bear, and far more dangerous. Even Inks, beside him, felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

To his credit - or perhaps in his shock - Suleiman appeared to take no notice whatsoever of the enormous beast threatening him from a bare metre away. His eyes stayed fixed on Inks for several long moments before he turned mechanically, picked up the chair and sat down again stiffly.

"... I see," he said hoarsely. "That... that does shed light. On several things." 

"So... Yeah." She slumped in her own chair, hand gently soothing Maji back down to some semblance of 'cuddly'. It was not working. "my _teacher_... well I was able to convince her I was still _me_ , and she's a water dragon spirit."  
  


>   
> ST: (Inks can roll Perception+Socialise to try and read him, if she wants)  
> Inks: !ex 7 +2; Inks rolled 5, 4, 6, 9, 6, 6, 7 for a compiled value of 4.  
> 

  
  
Suleiman never had much of a poker face, especially to her, and the shock had more or less shattered what was left of it. He was stunned, and a little scared, and she could tell he was thinking hard. But he did seem willing to listen.

"I... a question, if I may," he said cautiously. "You... no, the first time..."

He grimaced and smoothed down his beard a couple of times, which seemed to calm him down. "I have heard... the magics of the... of those like you, can snare men's minds. I _know_ that was not why I took to you when we met - when I first saw you in that teahouse, it was from a distance and you did not know I was there. So that could not have been magic, and I don't... I think that you would not do anything since; that you are not one who would do anything else. But I would hear it from your lips as truth. Please."  
  


>   
> ST: (So yeah, his gut trusts that Inks isn't beguiling him magically and his head mostly agrees, but he has a niggling core of fear/doubt that he can't quite get to shut up and would like to hear Inks confirm it.)  
> 

  
  
Inks: Inks exhaled softly, smiling. "I don't know how to do anything like that. My wiles are purely feminine, and I honestly haven't had to use them on you. You did all that on your own."  
Inks: Her grin took on a darker, sexier aspect. "And trust me, if I ever use my wiles on you, _you won't forget it._ "

A brief startled look, and then Suleiman barked out a laugh, sagging back into his chair. Inks could actually see the tension leave his shoulders. "That is good to hear," he said, then frowned again. "Tell me, though - when we first met, you said your goal was Gem. To earn a fortune here; to establish yourself. I have no doubt that was true, but was there more you left unsaid?"

"Well, it's _Gem_. I am a woman and I am not so high-minded to dislike shiny pretty things. An entire city-state? It _called to me_ , dear Sulieman." She smiled wider with white teeth. "Don't call it a coup or hostile takeover, but I'm sure I'll make Rankar more than a few offers he can't refuse."

Maji rumbled kindly under her hand, mollified now that Sulieman seemed calmer. 

He nodded slowly, stroking his beard again. Inks got the impression he was deep in thought, reevaluating his plans and place in relation to her in light of this new information."I must think on this," he said. "But I swear on the Ash Wind, Inks, I will tell no-one." He crossed his arms over his chest and made a quick half-circle with his hand; index and middle finger pulled in. 

Inks: "Appreciated." She looked down at the meal, cooling between them. "Lemme... fix this and we can finally eat!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay so i'd actually be fine with ending the session on that note)  
> Inks: (Today went a lot more Drama than I expected but in a good way!)  
> ST: (Cool)  
> ST: ((End session))  
> 

  
  



	6. Session 6: Better Living Through Demons

With Suleiman's fleet repaired and the man himself busy with stockpiling goods for it, Inks considered her options. The prospect of producing hepatizon looked promising - her heranhals certainly knew how - but for a project of any significant scale she'd need a new workshop devoted to the endeavor, along with more demons to staff it. And it would not be a subtle project by any measure.

Her office was by no means richly appointed- the one in her still-not-quite-furnished estate. It had a desk she'd thrown together out of some handy leftover materials, but it did little more than serve as a surface for her paperwork. The draft of her plan was simple- build a new workshop. Jotting down notes regarding the nature of Fervid Smiths, she considered the ratio of Neomah attendants to demon metallurgists. The obvious problem was one of public relations...

Rapidly drafting a letter of instruction to her staff at House Bhalasus, she directed them to look at property rights and costs for land outside the caldera, preferably on the sides least visible to incoming trade caravans and the like. Setting aside the actual architecture for the moment, Inks drafted another letter and hired a courier to deliver it to the Despot's court. She was not so much asking _permission_ as offering fair advisement ahead of time.

From there, she quietly asked the Dream of Flesh to advise her on catering and the proper means of hosting a party, as a demonstration of both her good will and skill would go a long way to making or breaking her project. As part of that preparation, she summoned a handful of Anglakaye to serve as both demonstration and musicians for her plan. 

Most of her guests were those she knew professionally, or their plus-ones and trickle-down invitees, she had no idea if the Despot would send an observer, and she wasn't worried either way. The day of the party, Inks played the hostess, having carefully rehearsed her role prior. She mingled, flirted and worked to dazzle people with her brilliance. Maji prowled through the guests in her central courtyard space. He did not demand, but many offered a meat morsel or two regardless.

The cooler spaces and refreshing breeze provided by the very shape and scheme of her home was a fine demonstration of her prowess, and those who knew what the demon harpists were and meant offered a strong insight into her character and power. Finally, Inks raised her hands and called for attention, bidding her guests turn their eyes towards a lone Harpist she had set in the center of the plaza. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for joining me tonight! As I've introduced myself to you all, I call myself a doctor, architect, artisan, and more. I've omitted two titles as well, and I want to thank you all for being here when I show you." 

With her hand still raised, she took a deep, calming breath. And then, whisked out of air and nothing else, a _sword_ appeared in her hand. Longer than she was tall from broad tip to ring-capped hilt, it was a gleaming, polished plate of Orichalcum. No man in attendance could hope to carry it, and when the weight settled in Inks's hand, it brought her arm down hard in a swinging arc. "I am Sorcerer-" she intoned. "Clearly, you see this." 

The Harpist had been instructed on their role beforehand, who turned to face the woman and her weapon, still playing. The other demons picked up their tempo, offering dramatic accompaniment to the proceedings. A bright, shining aura of rich, velvety purples and reds, the colors of sunset, danced around Inks's body. "And I know the secrets of demons. How to summon them- bind them to my will..." She raised her weapon, presenting the flat of the blade to the demon as if it were a mirror or warding staff. "And now to banish them!" 

With that, she cast the spell, and the Anglakaye vanished. Grand Daiklave at her side and one hand on her hip, Inks faced the crowd. "Any questions?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll me Awe+Presence. 3-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: ((Awe = App or Awareness?))  
>  ST: ((App. Awareness would be Awa, and also isn't an Attribute. :P))  
>  ST: ((And for this, the name "Awe" is _very appropriate_.))  
>  ST: ((You really don't do things by halves, huh?))  
>  Inks: ((Just checking, 5+2+3style+3stunt, +3 autosux 2nd presence; rolled 10 7 7 7 6 5 5 4 3 3 2 1 1; 5+3autosux)  
> 

  
  
Banishment was a violent thing, no matter who was doing it or to what. This one was somewhat like a flash of velvet light, alongside a pulse of air pressure from Chronicle's swing and a thunder crack that left people's teeth vibrating, but the part that stood out most was the ringing, crashing chord as the demon was forced from Creation and blasted back into the Endless Desert. Inks had been as gentle as possible, but she still guessed that the angyalka was going to end up eating sand when it landed.

The courtyard is dead silent for a moment, bar the faint but ever-present noises of the city and the distant rumble of a fire mountain to the west. 

Then, as if on some unspoken signal, it exploded into yelling, discussion and not a few shrieks. Maji rolled down from the rockery and curled around Inks, letting her lean into him, and they waited for the clamour to die down. Most of it seemed to revolve around the light that had danced around her and her nature as a demonologist. There were a few voices calling her an infernalist - and hinting at worse - but on the whole opinions seemed to be in her favour. More than a few people brought up the presence demonic scorpion-men from across the Scar, and there were a few dark whispers about ghosts down in the deeper mines. 

One heavily-built young man with a broad hat was loudly telling - or perhaps retelling - a story about a monastery up in the mountains that the Realm had destroyed and left a shadowland. He seemed to have realized what the light around Inks had meant - at least in the most general of senses - and was hotly insisting that had the old monk who'd glowed like that been left alone, Gem might even now be supplied with holy talismans and a source of food not dependent on the mountain lords. He does not seem to bear much love for those outside Gem in his tirade, but more than a few people are nodding along. 

Inks nodded to herself, still faintly glowing. Maji followed as she moved forward through the crowd towards the man-in-hat. "Holy Talismans and food? I'll put it on my to-do list." She cocked her head to one side. "What about this monastery though?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Out of interest, did Inks allow weapons into this gathering, or check them at the door, or what?))  
>  Inks: ((Hmm. Weapons allowed.))  
> 

  
  
The man started to spit at the ground, before obviously remembering that he was standing in front of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. And also a giant tiger. Now that Inks was closer, she could see that he was wearing camel-rider boots, and had a flamewand holster on one side of his belt and a shamshir on the other. He took off his hat and gave her a shallow bow, and made a quick gesture of warding away foul things in response to her question.

"He was a holy man," he explains. "An old monk who glowed golden and blue like the noon sun. He set up the monastery - I rode up that way a few times, when I was just starting out with the rangers. They had farms, animals, huge prayer wheels of paper and gold." He sketches the designs in the air with his hands. "They dressed strangely, and sneered at us when we came by, but they were willing to trade, and they closed the old Yondu crypts. Sealed them up with salt and paper tokens to calm the restless Dead there." 

He scowls. "But then the Realm got wind of him, and called him 'Anathema', and came and murdered him. Him and all his acolytes, in a single night. And you know what happens when that much blood is spilled. So now the monastery is a shadowland, walled in by salt, and nobody dares ride up that way after sundown. And we lost another source of food."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks can try to guess a few of his strong Principles, if she wants.)  
>  ST: ((Perception+Socialise))  
>  Inks:((Sure! 10 9 8 4 3 1, 4 sux))  
> 

  
  
Inks nodded. "Putting _that_ on the to-do list as well..."

He has no love for the Realm, Inks thinks. That's plain to see from the scowl on his face as he talks about them, and the way he almost spat in disgust at the thought. She also guesses that he doesn't think much of anyone outside Gem - though he seems friendly enough to her. Maybe that's because she's settled here and counts as a citizen now, or maybe it's just that she's too beautiful to snub. Regardless, he's definitely a hothead. Going by his clothes and weapons, he's a camel-rider and proud of it - she thinks she's heard of the rangers as a group who patrol the land around Gem and escort those trade wagons that go too and from the nearby regions.

((He has quite a strong Intimacy of opposition to the Realm, a similarly strong one of Pride, and a third of "Isolationism" which might be against foreigners or just non-Gem-people. He's less upset about the deaths of the monks for their own sakes, and more because it lost Gem a valuable trading partner and gained them a dangerous nearby shadowland in one fell swoop.))  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((Nice))  
>  Inks: ((Alright, so I've pinned down that Inks is a summoner/sorcerer/banisher. I think we can move on to the next phase of building the workshop. Scenebreak?))  
>  ST: ((Sure thing. And if you want to note hat-wearing-man for the future, he introduced himself at some point after his rant as Ryabu.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Inks made a point to double her house-staff's wages for the following days after the party. The cleanup afterwords was less than enjoyable. She also penned heartfelt thank-you letters to both the Dream of Flesh and House Bhasalus's aides in ensuring it was such a success. Armed with goodwill, she started planning, while rather directly making Gem at large aware that she was an investment opportunity. She offered strong materials with unique and supernatural properties, and noted that the potential profits were... Extensive. 

Inks' talk on property rights with House Bhalasus was both positive and negative. Positive, in that that land _outside_ the caldera was even less valued than land around its edges - the slopes of Rankar Peak weren't the rich soil of the Firepeaks, and so nobody really owned or wanted them. Negative, in that permission to build on them therefore fell to the Despot himself, whose grandfather had apparently set a precedent for giving final approval to any major works on Gem's surrounding land when the steep tunnel down from Sixth Leg had been cut.

However, even without a proposed workshop site, she was already getting interest from several groups. Several big names from the mercenary market had dropped by to inquire as to whether she would be making weapons, including the Circla family, who owned the gladiatorial arena and and its attached monopoly. The Arbani family, who held the firewand monopoly, had also sent a member. The quiet veiled woman had listened intently to Inks' sales pitch and taken extensive notes, but regretfully admitted that she wasn't in a position to make an offer herself. From what Inks had heard, the head of the Arbani was a man known across the South for his personal pieces, and took great pride in his work. She wouldn't be surprised if he was considering the uses of a supernatural material could be put to in his craft. 

Not all of the attention she got was positive. There were fears that anything she produced would be tainted by demonic artifice, and rumours that she was planning to use her summoned minions in ways that ranged from the nefarious to the perverse. Still, no action came against her from the court of the Despot, and that seemed to hold others back - for now. While most of her support was confined to vocal agreement and eager promises of purchase that shied away from payment up front, enough were rich enough or convinced enough to take a risk that she could afford what she'd need. 

Her consultant's office had a pool of architects and advisors she drew on once more for aide- and they already succeeded in directing her to suitable land area outside the Caldera. She put them to task of drawing up contracts for raw materials, Brass and cattle. In the meantime she planned the actual workshop complex itself, deciding that it needed an attached bordello to support the Neomah towers as well as the Heranhal Hepatizon refinery. Inks whistled at her speculative budget, noting that building a refinery on this scale was something nations did, not personal interests. Oh well, what was life if not for the challenge? 

Until she had samples to prove that it wasn't extensively demonic or heretical, Inks decided to focus on solving the more practical problems of production. She wrote another letter to the Despot's court, asking for a brief audience regarding her project and the properties she would prefer. While waiting for a response, she started drawing up the actual plans for the workshop.  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((So until Rankar gets back to me, all I can do is the paperwork, that's cool though))  
> 

  
  
Apparently, someone from the court _had_ been at her soiree. That, or the Despot was keeping a close eye on her activities. The response to her letter came the very same day, specifying a time in the late evening and politely requesting that she leave the tiger or the sword - or preferably both - at home.

Inks read the letter and laughed, before not quite flopping onto Maji. "Awww, nobody else sees how awesome and cuddly you are... They will in time."

Maji yawned expansively in reply, and Inks laughed harder. Time to get ready.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((You going to stunt dressing up or presentation, or just cut to seeing him?))  
>  Inks: (Cut to seeing him. Dressup montages should be used sparingly)  
>  ST: ((Fair.))  
> 

  
  
This time, there is no delay in a waiting room.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Perception + Awareness roll to assess Rankar.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled [4, 8, 8, 5, 6, 10] for a compiled value of 7.  
> 

  
  


* * *

The hall was still grand. The guards were still present - in greater number, and more prominent positions. The throne was still imposing. Rankar looked faintly irritated, though more at the world in general than at Inks specifically. He gave her a thin, humourless smile as she marched in and up to the lounging chair that had considerately been set in front of the dais for her. His wandering eye seemed absent today. 

"Miss Inks," he greeted her. "I believe you neglected to mention something of importance when last you were here." 

Inks took her seat and nodded. "I wanted to be circumspect, until I was more certain of my position here in Gem."

"My recent demonstrations were calculated, with intent, and have largely succeeded."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks was anima-flaring at the soiree, yes?))  
>  Inks: ((yeah, had to because Sorcery))  
> 

  
  
He stroked his beard, settling his weight back carefully. "And yet I find that you are not only a sorcerer, but also one of the beings the Realm calls Anathema." An aide murmurs something with impressive subtlety that's not quite sufficient to stop Inks noticing, and Rankar continues smoothly, integrating the new information into his speech so seamlessly that Inks wouldn't notice if she hadn't seen the slight shift in posture and the ripple of his advisor's veil from their words. "A Copper Spider, yes? Or a Child of Twilight? That is a great deal of power to suddenly find in my city, and one that may attract threats. I would like some reassurance as to Gem's safety with your presence here."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks can Perception+Socialise to scope his feelings on the matter in more detail.))  
> 

  
  
Inks leaned forward, propping herself up on one elbow while she looked Rankar in the eye. The space between them seemed to narrow, and she held his gaze without flinching.  
  


>   
>  [11:54] Inks: !ex 7 +3; Inks rolled [3, 4, 4, 6, 3, 5, 9] for a compiled value of 4.  
> 

  
  
Rankar seemed calm and civil enough, but he was guarded in a way he hadn't been before. If there was anything lurking beneath his cautious, logical assessment of the potential risk Inks posed, she couldn't make it out.

Inks did not bother to hide her surprise. "You are surprisingly well informed. Most people don't know those titles- I didn't until someone told me." She sat up straighter. "So to make myself absolutely clear, I am an entrepeneur and businesswoman. I don't necessarily agree with how you run things here in Gem, but I am not here to hurt you or your interests."

She paused then, humming lightly. "I view wealth, economy, as something that grows. I make money here in Gem, that money makes its way to you. I don't want to steal markets, I want to improve them for everyone. As far as your question regarding Gem's safety, that's pretty simple- if something threatens Gem, I will be one of the resources you have available to address that threat. I am not suited to facing down the Realm single-handedly, of course, but there is a fair division of labor. You and your government provide services and security that I cannot with my personal power, and I use my personal power to do things you and your government cannot."

He considered this, drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne and accepting a few slices of candied orange from a slave girl. Eventually he nodded sharply. "Well then. Tell me of this market you plan to build, and the service you want my government to provide to build it. I confess, I am intrigued."

"Well by services I meant things like a standing military- I can't exactly hire an army right now-" Inks admitted. "But right, the project itself. I aim to create a refinery for the creation of Hepatizon, which is an occult material. The method of such production is known to the Heranhals, Fervid Smiths of Malfeas. I can summon these workers and put them to task of manufacturing it." She went on to explain its properties, and her vision of improved mining tools, industrial applications and so on. "I can't say it's a very... 'civil' material, it belongs in smelly, labor-intensive places like the mines or construction. My initial facility can produce enough to equip a few score men with fine tools every season, and I of course would plan to expand."

"Selling it locally, abroad- many sorcerers _can_ make these materials, but few can afford to do so on an economic scale. What I need is property outside the caldera to build the facilities to make these materials."

He leant forward, eyes intent. "This material - it would be of the same ilk as tumbaga, or jadesteel? Of similar durability and strength?"

Inks nodded. "The very same, and I would of course work to produce those materials too."

"I envision your city clad in shining crystal awnings and with tunnels reinforced by living stone. A safe place for people to live and work. A _rich_ place."

Inks definitely had his attention, and he didn't even bother trying to hide his interest under a mask of disinterest. Instead he leaned back in his throne again, wincing a little and shifting slightly as he calculated. "This refinery - how large would it be? How obvious?"

Inks frowned and assessed him. His posture, the way he sat, and his obvious discomfort.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis- is wince medically relevant Y/N?)  
>  ST: (Y)  
> 

  
  
Rising smoothly, she started to answer while she approached the Despot and his throne. "Fairly large, over ten thousand square feet, with options to expand. Most sort of metal manufacturing process takes a lot of land-area. I could maybe make it smaller with time to refine the idea..." She trailed off, raising a reassuring hand at the guards who moved to block her approach. She stopped before their crossed spears. "The Despot is clearly suffering from some problem. A sickness or injury. May I examine him?"

He shook his head dismissively. "It is nothing. You say it would have demon workers - will they pose a threat to the citizens?" Inks caught a flicker of his eyes towards the veiled aide who had murmured to him earlier. After a long moment of thought, another quiet exchange prompts a frown from him. "The lusts of the heranhal are legendary, I believe."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((lol, _barely_ squeaked the lower bound of that occult roll))  
> 

  
  
"I've already accounted for that with a Neomah support facility nearby." She frowned hard, but decided not to press about his injuries. She remained in place however. "Of course, the Neomah support invites its own issue of their fleshcrafting business. In an ideal case, I will hire or train more sorcerers to help support and manage these demon-staffed facilities."

He nods thoughtfully. "I will require a percentage of the products to be sold to me before any other, but I will allow the construction of the refinery," he decides. "Shall we say one fourth?" 

Inks ran though some idle calculations. "I can agree to that."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, uh, you wanna stunt setting up the factory, I guess?))  
>  Inks: (Let's do it! Thanks for the prompt)  
> 

  
  
With the property released to her and the deed now in her name, Inks stood over her new facility grounds with an assessing eye. The labor crews moved to clear the spaces of small woodland creatures, of which there were thankfully few. The saplings went in next. From sunrise to sunset, she was there, directing the construction of her new asset. Her anima flared with every casting, pulling yellow stone like wax from the earth, carving out interior spaces and basements, stacking where able and carving a building out of the side of a mountain.

A road was next, paved by magic and slotting neatly against the curve and strata of the mountainside, before merging almost seamlessly into the foothills. When that was done, she turned to her Heranhals and discussed what they required- great vats of warded tin and brass to hold the bile, and forges pumped by bellows. For now they would be pumped by demon labor, but in the future a windmill or waterwheel would be better to drive the industrial spine of her refinery. 

Spaces were set aside for raw materials, and one whole floor was dedicated to the careful slaughter of cattle and rending of parts for delivery elsewhere. She idly considered food preservation methods, and made a point to direct some of the beef to her personal larder, satisfying Maji's dietary requirements. Cow hide itself was to be sold to tanneries and similar industries in Gem proper, and Inks made sure that as many of the refinery's waste products went to useful sources. Those that could not, she ordered sent to a special tank housing Stomach Bottle Bugs, bound to never leave and eat. Of those Sesslejae who were born of the refuse, she corralled them with lines of pure salt and so on. 

Set alongside the refinery was a another plaza, with high walls that protected the eventual 'renters' from prying eyes. Here she summoned Neomah and their towers, ordering them to serve the needs of the Heranhals, as well as tacitly allowing the citizens of Gem to indulge in their services. She hired guards, men and women of Gem to block the entrace to the bordello, and interviewed many people before settling on a manager who would keep the books and keep track of who came and went to the establishment. 

Securing the cattle came next, and then the bronze. Finally, with everything in place, she spent night after night summoning the Heranhals who would work the forges and stir the vats. When all was done and production was starting, she inviited the Despot to send an observer to view her progress.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hmm. So how long will this have taken? The outer structure of the refinery is a matter of a few days of spellcasting, and it doesn't need to be elaborately furnished or floored in the same way... hmm. But she's summoning a fair number of demons - the earlier arrivals of whom will probably be set to preparing the equipment and tools as she summons their fellows, I assume.))  
>  Inks: ((yeah, i'm just assuming this step takes 3-6 months in aggregate because of what we discussed the other day))  
>  Inks: (This is admittedly why i dislike nested projects, because it makes timing hard to determine))  
>  ST: ((fair point, yes.))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I'm... pretty sure that's our montage, then. Want to close the session there and pick up next session with the first batch coming through for her to play with?))  
> 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also note from Session 3.5, that Inks sought out and acquired a tome of sorcerous lore that among other things, taught her Raising the Earth's Bones and Water From Stone.


	7. Session 7: Demons in the Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inks makes a demon industry, and has to deal with the consequences. And then her initial exploration into the monastery of El-Galabi!

# Session 7: Demons in the Details

A full season had passed since Inks finished setting up her factory-complex, and for a full season it had been a presence lurking beyond the caldera rim; spewing strange smokes and clamouring at all hours with noise and heat, rarely seen by Gem's citizens but often felt and thought of. In that time it had guzzled down metal ore, coal, cattle, beer and expensive reagents to feed its activities. In return, it had provided meat, high-quality leather, bone ash fertiliser and metal tools - and now, it had almost completed the primary reason for its existence. 

The first batch of a _supernal_ material, above and beyond mere brass or steel. Enough hepatizon to outfit a full mining group of fifty men. 

Of course, there was one last product of the hellish installation - one not spoken of outright, but murmured about behind closed doors. The spiralling neomah towers that took up a fifth of the compound sold sex to any who wished it - and they, too, had their products.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((If the bordello has been serving citizens, then there have been _quite a number_ of demonblooded offspring over the course of the season. What has Inks been doing with them?))  
>  ST: ((I presume she's still Banishing all of the full demons.))  
>  Inks: ((Thank you for plain-text explaining the challenge, devising!))  
> 

Compared to the feats required to set up the hepatizon complex, arranging for the creation of a private orphanage and nursery staff was a simple matter. She had carefully examined the children fashioned by the Neomah laborers, and found little to no issue. Socially that was another matter, so she made sure to be fairly transparent as she bought the property and hired the staff to attend to the children. It was something of a temporary measure, but she hoped to create the ground-level of an academy complex that could raise a child or assist in fostering them.

>   
>  Inks: ((Int+Bur stunt to set up the orphanage. How fast do Neomah create children btw?))  
>  ST: (It only takes a week of business for a neomah to create a child.)  
>  ST: (And you have quite a few neomah there.)  
>  Inks: (So 12 children per season, per neomah. Some of which are full demons though)  
>  ST: ((Yes, though per core, the neomah like to make unique creatures - to mix sources up.))  
>  Inks: (Right, so given the option they'll always make demonblooded basically. I don't need to tackle this now, but feel free to flesh out the demands of an orphanage or similar after this session. I just want to do a roll that firms up that Inks has taken measures and is not leaving it alone. I feel like I can apply my Master Trailblazer Perk too, because it's a 'new facility', so -1 difficulty))  
>  Inks: ((So int 5, bur 3, +3 style, +2 stunt, +8 1st excellency; 21d at difficulty-1. Good to roll??))  
>  ST: ((Sure thing.))  
>  Inks: !ex 21; Inks rolled 10, 9, 4, 6, 6, 1, 9, 7, 7, 3, 9, 3, 5, 1, 10, 3, 3, 2, 8, 2, 7 for a compiled value of 11.  
>  ST: ((I will note that in the long run you'll probably be getting kids in at an unsustainable rate, with something on the order of 100 infants per season.))  
>  ST: ((That said...))  
>  Inks: (Yes, that's a concern, but right now I'm aiming to stabilize the situation so I can create a more elegant/lasting solution.)  
> 

* * *

The orphanage was a success, and indeed garnered considerable support from the populace. Inks' business acumen and organizational genius were enough for her to take in not only the infants produced from her factory-complex, but also a number of existing orphans from the streets and tunnels and tenements of Gem. Her generosity and charity in giving them a place - and, more to the point, getting them out of the space of proper citizens - seemed to have won her a certain level of support from those who were wavering on her reputation; split between her consorting with demons and the high-quality goods and materials she was providing. 

Inks: (Nice! Okay so now to go on a bit of scouting. Do I need to do anything particular to find Ryabu?)  
ST: ((No, not really. He's pretty well-known among the rangers.))

With the orphanage established, Inks made a fairly to-the-point request for one Ryabu to visit her townhouse, waiting inside the central courtyard with Maji while she examined what supplies she could already think to bring. Carsa, rapidly becoming her head of staff and majordomo, (admittedly of only three people) was there to greet the ranger and invite him inside.

"Salt... silver. Sealed ampoules of blood for ghost-luring... More salt." Inks hummed to herself, checking off gear and ideas as they came to her.

Ryabu Havla, she thought as he was shown in. Nicknamed "Belligerent Ryabu" by the other rangers; he was the third son of a minor noble house that had ties to the Circla family - the same Circla family who held the gladiatorial monopoly, and had invested in her factory-complex. He was a relatively young man for his position as a first outrider, perhaps in his mid-to-late thirties, and he moved like someone who was used to violence despite his heavy build.

"You asked to see me, ma'am," he said, dropping her a short bow as he was shown in. "How can I help you?" 

"You mentioned a monastery and a shadowland- I want to go see it." Inks turned smartly, all curves and poise despite the topic. Maji yawned expansively, longer than the table she'd used to lay out her supplies.

He blinked. "You... want to _see_ El-Galabi?" he asked, as if not quite sure she was serious. "In person? Ma'am... it's not a place for..." 

He stopped, as his attempt at finding a polite way of saying 'people who can't fight off hungry Dead things' ran into Maji and crumpled. 

"Well yes, if I don't see it, I can't figure out how to fix it." She smiled, matter-of-factly. "So please, tell me about El-Galabi; and what we'll need to take a look. I don't plan on a full expedition right now, but I have a fair budget for expenses."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha or Man + Presence to get him to take you there. Diff 1. 2-dot stunt))  
>  Inks: (Does Ryabu have an intimacy of lust/attraction towards Inks?)  
>  ST: ((Yes he does.))  
>  ST: ((He also doesn't want to put her in danger, and genuinely believes it's a dangerous place to venture into.))  
>  ST: ((And she can pretty easily tell that he's Valour-primary.))  
>  Inks: (cha 2 pres 2 Style +3 stunt +2; do you modify results of social rolls by threshold? By 2e RAW, social actions are binary.)  
>  ST: ((A high threshold will have corresponding effects down the line.))  
>  Inks: (2 autosux then as well(  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +2; Inks rolled 4, 7, 4, 2, 10, 1, 3, 2, 8 for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

He wasn't hard to persuade. A few more comments about how Inks was sure he could keep her safe and a promise to stay close to Maji, and he was happily explaining things.

El-Galabi, it seemed, was a hundred and twenty miles southwest into the Firepeaks, in the region between Towering Zharm and Old Ruby-Eyes - two volcanoes of unusual size that were used as landmarks. Given the terrain, that equated to six days ride by camelback, which would bring up to the walls of the ruined temple itself. From there, it would largely depend on what Inks wanted to do. Ryabu was fiercely against trespassing beyond the walls, and seemed relatively sure that, should they stay outside them and keep fire and salt close at hand during the night, they would need little more than the usual necessities for a week's travel in the 'safe' regions around Gem. Should she want to delve into the streets and ruined buildings within the wall of the dead, however, it would be another story entirely - and not a safe one. 

To that Inks gave a solemn nod, and declared they would depart before the week was out.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((!!! Six days travel))  
>  ST: ((If you're going by camel, yeah.))  
>  ST: ((If you had Stormwind Rider it would take you, like))  
>  ST: ((an hour and a bit))  
>  ST: ((SORCERERS))  
>  ST: ((TOTAL BULLSHIT))  
>  Inks: ((Unfortunately I do not have Rider))  
>  ST: ((... were the exclamation marks "holy shit I just noticed _six days travel?!_ " or "yess, back to gaming! We were at six days travel; go."))  
>  Inks: ((The latter))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Are you taking other guides, or just Ryabu?))  
>  Inks: (Just Ryabu for now, unless he recommends more people? I am explicitly employing him- he's getting paid, and if he thinks we need something/Inks can afford it, why not? Her main goal is to travel light enough to not get bogged down)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So you have a few packmules, I'm guessing Maji, him, Inks, and possibly one of Inks' servants if she wants someone to fan her with a palm leaf or set up camp, etc. Roll me a pool of 3 for Ryabu-navigating.))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled 7, 8, 2 for a compiled value of 2.  
>  ST: ((Surprisingly efficient!))  
> 

It was a fairly easy journey, all things considered. The sand-strewn rock around Gem faded into the bare rock of the badlands as they headed southwest. Ryabu proved something of a braggart, but he kept them on course easily enough by taking his bearings against the two great volcanoes they rode towards, and proved a reasonable storyteller as he shared tales of how they got their names over campfires.

Ashfall became more common as they moved into the mountains, and a scowling Ryabu pointed out the domains of the mountain lords that they threaded between. From the sound of it, there were many valleys in the region, sheltered from the blazing sun and enriched by fertile volcanic soil - and each hosted a lord, separated from his neighbors by fire mountains but eyeing their shadowfields with a greedy eye. 

They reached the edge of the true mountains late on the second day, and climbed steadily from there. Mid-morning on the sixth day, as they crested the ridge of a dizzyingly high clifftop, a heat-hazed smudge that Inks had spotted from much further down the slope before it disappeared behind the rise came into view, and resolved itself into a sheer ring-wall of stone less than a mile away Ryabu pointed at it grimly.

"El-Galabi," he said. "Or what is left of it." 

Inks whistled and slid off her camel, while Maji casually slid up against her side, letting her hand drape across his snout and brow. "How big is the complex?" While waiting for an answer, she pulled out some paper and began to sketch with charcoal, drafting a view of the monastery from their current position. 

Ryabu frowns, searching his memory. "Perhaps half a mile from edge to edge," he said slowly, pulling details from the distant past. "The walls are forty feet high, and they're said to be three yards thick at the base. There are hollows inside them, with a shah's ransom in salt - but no man dares take it. The walls are all that keep the monsters inside. The temple itself..."

He screws his eyes shut for a moment, then shakes his head in defeat. "I don't remember. I'm sorry. I was only a boy when this place was alive - just starting out with the rangers. That was almost twenty years ago, now. I remember that it was grand... but no more than that." 

Inks: "I see..." She looked up at the sun. "So there are dead in there, right now. Walking, restless dead."

"Right now? They will be lurking inside the buildings; in the cellars and the cells. But at night they come out. You can hear them scream for miles."  
  


  


>   
> Inks: ((Would Inks know of her own anima power over the dead?))  
> ST: ((Yes, she knows lesser dead will fall to her sunlight - but greater ones will not.))  
> ST: ((She also knows that the hungry animal-soul of humankind is the seat of power - and thus if the monks of this place were enlightened or empowered, their yidaks will be correspondingly stronger.))  
> ST: ((Whether they might be strong enough to resist sunlight to some extent, she doesn't know.))

Inks nodded slowly. "Alright. We're going to spend a day walking the outside, taking notes, doing a survey." She pulled out more papers and began to draft a map of El-Galabi." She carefully listed requests, mostly of Ryabu to help prepare a camp ground and ward it against ghostly intrusion. "If I must, I will keep watch over night- I am far better at defending all of you from the dead than mere fire or salt."  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((So my plan here is to take a day/action to 'assess' the situation. Find out interesting/relevant things from the outside like possible ways in, weaknesses, ways the dead get out if they can at all, etc. What should I roll?))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Let's go with Per + War for this.))  
>  Inks: (yeush,I have no dots in war. stunt at least, and a wp for autosux)  
>  Inks: !ex 7 +1; Inks rolled 10, 7, 8, 7, 4, 1, 8 for a compiled value of 7.  
>  Inks: ((Oooh yeah, six on seven.))  
>  ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
> 

Inks spent the rest of the day conducting a thorough investigation of the temple-city. It was, as Ryabu had estimated, a half-mile across, and perfectly circular. She recognized the wall as the work of spellcraft - and whatever Realm sorcerer had created it must have dug deep for volcanic basalt instead of the more readily available sandstone that most of the buildings seemed to be made out of. Parts of it were crumbling - from what Inks could tell, it looked like maybe the edge of a small avalanche or some offcast boulders from a volcanic eruption had hit it - and in one or two places the stacked rock salt within could be seen, but there were no breaches or structural cracks for the Dead to squirm through.

The wall itself was fifty feet high to the inch, and narrowed from about three yards wide at its base - two thirds solid and one third salt - to a few feet wide at the top. It was also curved slightly /inward/, like the rim of an upturned bowl, so that the inside of the wall was a faint overhang. That, Inks suspected, was to make it harder for anything to climb it from the inside. Nevertheless, someone had apparently tried to do it from without - on the down slope side of the city, Maji called her attention to a crude ladder made from iron rods hammered into the stone.

Ryabu argued against using them, but sprang into action when Inks made to climb them herself and scaled the wall, reporting from the top that a similar ladder had been made on the inside of the wall some forty feet along it, but that most of the rungs had been savagely yanked out. The wall-top also made a decent post, when Inks followed him up anyway, from which to sketch the layout of the streets. They were arranged with some sort of rotational symmetry around the large, ruined temple at the heart of the complex, but the Realm's attack had damaged the pattern severely and marred its sanctity.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((I am assuming that they get down off the wall prior to sunset and camp at a distance.))  
>  Inks: ((That is a safe assumption.))  
>  Inks: ((So someone is got into the monastary, but likely did not make it out or were otherwise willing to break the means of escap.))  
>  Inks: ((how tall are the buildings/far away from the wall?))  
>  Inks: ((Also to confirm, this is an actual Shadowland- which I assume is bounded by the salt warded walls))  
>  ST: ((Inks is leaning towards thinking that the lesser Dead probably ripped out most of the rungs, given the scratches around that part of the wall. The buildings are mostly one- and two storeys, and there's a band of clear space about five yards wide between the outermost ones and the wall.))  
>  ST: ((And yes, it's an actual shadowland. The light is all wrong.))  
>  ST: ((The sunlight is too bright; too stark and harsh.))  
>  ST: ((The shadows have no fade-in, no penumbra - only inky blackness.))  
>  ST: ((You can draw the line between the illumination without and the utter darkness inside the mouths of the buildings with a ruler.))  
>  Inks: ((Gotcha, so I'm half-remembering a lot of Shadowlands rules from 2e, but I can't think of anything specific other than the basics of 'when day, you're in Creation, and at night you're in the Underworld'))  
>  ST: ((That is also something Inks knows, yes. She can inuit that once the sun has set, the entire city is probably a giant deathtrap.))  
>  ST: ((... also a Death trap. Lawl.))  
>  ST: ((okay that was terrible, sorry))  
>  Inks: ((So keep me posted if there's a rule or mechanic I should be invoking. Having said that, my plan is to wait until the next morning to try and enter the monastery itself. And heh. So we can scene break to the next day.))  
>  Inks: ((or maybe something dramatic happens during the night, idk))  
>  ST: ((What measures does Inks use in defense of their campsite?))  
>  Inks: ((I'm assuming we brought enough salt to ward a circle around the location, and torches at Ryabu's recommendation. I think Inks will actually just stay up all night. She can go without sleep for quite a while even with her sta 2 res 1))  
>  Inks: ((Yeah, if she goes more than 1 day without sleep, -1 penalty. So the way I see it she guards one night, checks out the shadowland, and then sleeps))  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. So, fire, salt ring and Inks on watch (ready to wake Maji and go in with Chronicle swinging at anything nasty that shows up)?))  
>  Inks: ((Aye.))  
> 

* * *

The night passed uncomfortably. Ryabu had not been lying about the screaming - the howls and moans of the yidaks within the city were awful to hear, and Inks doubted he got much more sleep than she did. Amidst the dreadful clamour, one sound in particular stood out - a rolling, gluttonous voice that made greedy demands of the lesser voices gibbering near it; mad and rich and mocking.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Nothing directly attacks them, but it's not a pleasant night.))  
> 

When the sun rose, Inks exhaled softly and dug into their provisions, before moving with a deft certainty and brilliant method. The sundries and foodstuffs were simple and hearty, good for traveling, but a little extra preparation would make or break the morning. She was also quite certain that most investors or rich, educated folk ever made breakfast for their guides and aides. The campfire crackled with surprising cheer in the warming morning, and she served platefuls to Ryabu and Atali, along with strong, honey-dosed tea.

As they ate, Inks assessed their supplies. "We have sufficient rope- I think the ladder is our best point of entry for a brief, daytime excursion. Atali, Ryabu, you'll stay on the wall. Maji and I will head inside."

Ryabu immediately objected to this plan. "Three pairs of eyes are better than one," he argued, "and the two of you have no way to engage the monsters except at close range." He pulled out his flamewand meaningfully. "I will not stay back like a coward while you put yourself at risk."

Atali seemed a lot less enthusiastic about the 'venturing into a city full of hungry undead howling monsters' part, but added his own protests about Inks heading into danger alone. 

"Reasonable." Inks admitted. 

"Part of my plan was that I wanted two people on rope, in order to quickly pull me up the wall if I have to retreat. I can't jump the whole thing..." She trailed off, before shooting to her feet and pulling out the mountain climbing gear. She pulled out a weighted hook with a victorious cheer. "Okay, so here's the challenge: I can walk on a tight rope and you can't. Therefore, I need you keeping the rope secure." She went on to further explain her plan, making sure Ryabu and Ateli both knew their intended roles.  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 6 +2 "Charisma + Presence"; Inks rolled 2, 8, 1, 8, 7, 10 for a compiled value of 7.  
>  ST: ((Success. What's her plan?))  
>  Inks: (Okay, Ryabu and Ateli hold the rope/mount it to the wall, they throw the rope onto a nearbybuilding with the hook. Inks uses Graceful Crane Stance to walk along it- her walking/running speed is faster than climbing,and between her and Maji, she can get up to the rooftops easily if need be.)  
>  Inks: (this ensures Ryabu and Ateli are guarding her back from the wall, while Inks only has to worry about what's in front of her. I'm attempting to convince past Ryabu's valor.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. You're going from the top of a five-storey building to, at most, a two-storey one. So, hmm. I guess that'll make it a very steep slope, but traversable with GCS. Is Inks willing to promise to stay in their sight line from the wall and stay out of buildings? If so, that'll slide past Ryabu's Valour pretty easily.))  
>  Inks: (Yes, she can promise that)  
> 

There was a certain amount of grumbling, but Ryabu agreed, and cast the hook out to a promising-looking two-storey building with a chimney; lodging the hook securely on his first try and presenting Inks with a steep but taut slope downwards.

Maji did not need the assistance, simply leaping from the wall down to the building with a thunderous, booming impact- another reminder that his body was more bronze than mere muscle. Inks for her part shot Ryabu a bright, gleaming smile and sauntered down the rope, which did little more than sway under tension than even acknowledge her presence. While not light as a feather, she still made her way down at a smooth jog to where Maji was waiting. Inside the city boundary, the atmosphere seemed to change, and the stark relief between darkness and light was even more apparent. She turned her attention towards the open doorways and windows across the street, and then the caved in structures that created inky, looming shadows. What lurked there- she needed to _see_ in order to plan...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Aware))  
>  ST: ((What's she looking for, exactly, and how?))  
>  ST: ((Is she anima-flaring?))  
>  Inks: ((Any ghosts or signs of dead, like, creating a list of threats she has to account for- then a good place to set up an egress point. Like what she did here but for a bigger team/more cargo. And her anima is not yet flaring. I am assuming it's day outside. She's just using her eyes at the moment, eyes and ears.))  
>  ST: ((Roll it at a -2 internal penalty.))  
>  Inks: (w/ stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((... yeah, I guess that just cancels out your stunt, pretty much.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; Inks rolled 6, 2, 1, 5, 8, 7, 6, 9, 3, 10, 10, 8 for a compiled value of 8.  
>  ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
>  ST: ((Okay... let me see...))  
>  Inks: (Basically, I want to come away from this expedition with enough information to plan on what to do next. Like 'what kind of ghosts are there' and 'what parts of the monastary are most dangerous')  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

It was pitch-black inside the buildings. Unnaturally dark - utterly lightless. Inks could see the border of the light falling in through each doorway as though it were drawn with an architect's straight-edge; barely penetrating the gloom despite its angle. There was no seeing the things that lurked within those sunless places - but Inks could hear them. They shuffled and snarled within their safe harbours, hateful and full of spite. There was an edge to their animalistic sounds, too. Not quite language, but something close to it. These things were smarter than normal yidaks.

They were also savage. Scratches marked the walls everywhere; the marks of them sharpening their claws. Blood stained the sandstone streets in places; splashed up against the walls and over the sun-bleached bones that were stacked like firewood in long-dry fountains. They were gnawed on; broken open by hungry fangs and hollowed out of marrow. In one street near the wall, Inks found a tattered corpse that wore the remains of a desert burnoose, rather than the shredded orange robes that the other bodies wore. The remains of a pack lay near it, and its limbs were several dozen yards from its body. 

There were many, many hungry ghosts in this city of dead monks. Hundreds - if Inks had to guess, she might even say close to a thousand. Whatever the Realm had done here, it had been brutal, and almost every maligned po had risen seeking vengeance. And when she ventured as close as she dared to the ruined temple, she heard again that terrible voice from the night before - wailing, this time, and sobbing in time to the wet sounds of gouging flesh and dripping blood. 

Her search for a better way in or out was more promising. About an eighth-turn clockwise around the wall from the ladder was a tower - Inks could see the remains of an identical one on the opposite side of the city, which had evidently collapsed at some point. She couldn't tell exactly what it had been for, but it was almost as tall as the wall, and the narrow stairwell left little room for any yidaks to hide. If she could set up some sort of rope bridge to the top, she could bring a larger force into the city and simply have them descend the steps within. Though the yidaks would probably tear such a thing down if it was still up when night fell - or swarm along it in a futile attempt at crossing the wall.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Oh, one more thing.))  
>  ST: ((The vast majority of the remains she can see are wearing the orange robes that seem to have been the monks here. But quite a few of the more desecrated ones seem to be wearing Realm gear - which fits with Ryabu's claim that the Realm couldn't defeat the Dead here in battle; only seal them within the city.))  
>  Inks: ((Nice.))  
>  ST: ((Or to put it another way, a fully-equipped pre-Empress-disappearance Wyld Hunt rolled up to this temple, murdered everyone in it including the Solar, and then enough of the Dead rose that said fully-equipped Wyld Hunt _lost_.))  
>  Inks: ((Dang. No small challenge for Inks then. I think that's enough to call the session too.))  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  Inks: ((Xp?  
>  14:53 ST: Indeed! 5xp for BRAVERY AND COURAGE, +1mxp.  
>  0114:53 Inks: Nice. I hope you had fun  
>  ST: I did. What did you think of El-Galabi?  
>  Inks: I remember it from one of I think ES's writeup's, but it's been long enough that I don't feel that 'tailored too easy' reaction  
>  Inks: it feels like it's going to be a challenge, instead of a perfunctory metagaming experience  
>  ST: I've changed a few things from the writeup as well.  
>  ST: And good. Hee. ^_^  
>  ST: Hmm. Want an Inks-thought?  
>  Inks: Go for it, and thank you again for running.  
>  ST: If I were Inks and I were standing on that fifty-foot wall looking down on the buildings full of lurking hungry ghosts  
>  ST: my immediate thought would be "gee, if only I knew an artillery spell that could shatter roofs."  
>  Inks: Pff.  
>  ST: ... admittedly, this is because my immediate instinct when faced with a battle where I'm outnumbered is "cheat".  
>  Inks: Does that one book she have cover one...  
>  ST: It is indeed a book called _Siege_ and Sorcery  
>  ST: and holds Calling the Wind’s Kiss, Flight of the Brilliant Raptor, Raising the Earth’s Bones and Food from the Aerial Table  
>  Inks: Ahh, raptor, thought so  
>  ST: ...  
>  ST: lol  
>  THE RAVENOUS FIRE  
>  Cost: 15m  
>  Target: Inanimate object  
>  The sorcerer’s Essence flares around him, and he makes the sign of Essence Consumed over an object. A jet of blue-white flame leaps up to a yard from his fingertips to ignite the target of the spell. Wood sears to ash. Stone softens and burns like wax, while metals crumble to ash and slag.  
>  The flames consume the material to which they were originally set but leave other substances alone. For example, setting fire thus to the stone in a statue crafted of marble, silver and emerald leaves a pile of melted, seared stone, with undestroyed silver and emeralds among the slag. Nor can the fire consume enchanted objects, the magical materials or anything alive. The flames feel icy cold but cannot harm living flesh.  
>  The Ravenous Fire consumes up to 27 cubic feet of material (about the size of a human-sized statue and its base) per dot of the sorcerer’s permanent Essence. The fire gutters out once it devours this amount of material. Only countermagic can extinguish it before then.  
>  ST: Inks: "Sandstone."  
>  ST: Inks: *casts it at the roof, from the next roof over*  
>  Inks: Heh  
> 


	8. Session 8: The Return to Gem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further investigation into El-Galabi, and then a return to Gem, where a mystery unfolds!

# Session 8: The Return to Gem

As evening begins to draw in and the sun dips towards the horizon, Inks, Maji, Ryabu and Atali stand atop the southern wall of El Galabi. The gibbering chorus of the Dead is already beginning to rise from within, and shapes move in the pitch-black shadows cast by the western wall. The city is high in the Firepeaks, but not at their summit, and the mountains will cast the city completely into shadow long before the sun sets in full. 

Inks whistled faintly. "That's going to complicate things." She stood on the wall, lingering for a few moments and sketching furiuosly on the last few blank pieces of parchment. Scratching off one final line with a flourish, she leapt off the wall. Ryabu, on no small chivalric instinct, held out his arms without thinking, and there Inks did land. 

Ryabu blinked once, twice, arms full of leggy sorcerer, and Maji let out a low, rumbling growl that shook the bones. Inks for her part just laughed, tired but pleased with the progress. "Maji, down. Ryabu, thanks." 

Ryabu appeared a bit flustered - possibly from the feel of Inks pressed against him as he caught her, or possibly from the brief look down her cleavage that the angle had given him. After a moment or two of stuttering, he regained his verbal feet. "Well, ah, you've seen what the Realm did here; curse their eyes." He spat to seal the oath. "What do you - will we be staying here another night?"

It was pretty clear that this was not an attractive option to him _or_ Atali. Even Maji looked decidedly unenthusiastic about it; ears flattened against the rising chorus of shrieks and deathly hunting calls. 

"No, we're packing up." Inks moved to do so as she spoke. "I have enough information to start making some headway, and I'd really appreciate introductions to anyone back in Gem who would know more about El Galabi or Shadowlands in general." Inks shouldered her pack with ease, no longer surprising after the trip out.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'm aiming to have Ryabu give Inks a rundown on the Anathema leader of El Galabi on the ride back to Gem.)   
> ST: ((Cool. Want to play it out or just abstract it?))  
> Inks: (Bit of both, finishing!)  
> 

After breaking camp and making sure Maji had eaten his fill of the stored provisions, the small expedition got on their way and headed back to Gem. Once the shadowland was out of sight behind the hills, Inks turned to Ryabu with an interested glint in her eye. "So tell me about this Anathema who lead El Galabi?"

Ryabu has little to say about the Monk of the Mountains - he had only been a boy when the man had been killed, after all. The Solar had apparently been elderly, with golden skin and a six-ringed golden sounding staff - this, Ryabu remembers quite well, having been allowed to touch it once on his first visit to the monastery. He'd been devout, righteous and virtuous, and had taken in students from Gem, the Firepeaks and even further-flung places; leading to a mixture of ethnicities in his temple that Ryabu didn't appear to think highly of. Or perhaps that was just his general opposition to anyone who didn't call Gem home. Anything more, such as details of the man's worship or what he taught, would have to come from one of the older rangers who'd had more contact with El-Galabi and been an adult when it had fallen.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. So let's say that researching takes about a week, Per/Int+Lore. I'm willing to hire assistants to help me as well. I will also dispatch one of my employees to track down those other two books of sorcery again. You can also use this week to think of any events that find Inks as well. Writan stunt.)  
> ST: ((Roll 3 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled [3, 10, 8] for a compiled value of 3.  
> 

Inks arrived back to the city to find a pair of rather shaken servants at her townhouse, and news of an attempted attack turning into a brawl outside it a few days after her departure. A brawl that the attackers had lost.

Record-keeping in the modern age was difficult outside the largest city-states with established governments and long, institutional memories. Fortunately, Gem was one such place. Polite requests to Ryabu's organization, as well as the Despot's court for records and other gentle inquries into the occult culture of Gem quickly built her information base. 

Combined with her direct observations of El-Galabi, Inks dedicated a room in her townhouse to the study and dissection of it's situation. Her sketches covered the walls and tables, while she carefully prevented her anima from flaring out and erasing the data she had gathered so far. Her assistants returned with treatise and document on geomantic principles and architectural digests from the Realm, discussing the various permutations and angles of structure that created auspicious behaviors and spiritually resonant construction. 

From there, she began to draw a conclusion...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so Event Flag: a group tried to attack the townhouse while she was gone and got beaten off - and not by the Despot's forces, either. And you're rolling here to... work out if the structure of El-Galabi was metaphysically powerful?))  
> Inks: (Correct, and dang, I am trying to figure out of El Galabi is metaphysically potent, or its nature as a Shadowland. Like, how do you get in/out, how do ghosts get in/out)  
> ST: ((Okay, roll me Int+Occult and Int+(lower of Craft and Occult).))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks rolled [6, 8, 10, 9, 8, 2, 10, 2, 2, 4] for a compiled value of 11.  
> Inks: (That was int+occult, and I'll roll it again)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks rolled [3, 1, 9, 7, 3, 10, 5, 7, 8, 10] for a compiled value of 12.  
> ST: ((lel))  
> Inks: (That was 16m personal, can't afford to go flaring in the research room, but this is downtime)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Okay...))  
> 

Turning all of her considerable attention and genius to the study of shadowlands yielded impressive results for Inks' studies. The area within the walls of salt was definitely linked to the Underworld, she surmised. In fact, it was _part_ of the Underworld - but at the same time part of Creation, as she'd more or less surmised from general knowledge. It was anchored enough to Creation that sunlight merely sent its deathly nature into abeyance, but at night it was a hole in the world; a pit that led straight into the Underworld. Anyone walking out of it while the sun wasn't in the sky would be doing so by one of the Rivers of Death that were said to link the domains and cities Below.

Of course, the walls of salt were well-made. The Dead could probably slip out of it by going _down_ , deeper into the Underworld and closer to Oblivion, but they couldn't get out while staying on the surface - and that meant no exit into Creation. Some of them probably had slunk off into the Underworld over the years, disappearing into other domains along the Rivers - but not many, given how many she'd heard. Something must be holding them there. Perhaps that deep, gluttonous voice from the ruined temple? 

And speaking of the temple... yes, Inks was _sure_ it had been a manse. There was nothing actively special about the rest of the city - it was arranged to be harmonious and flattering to the dragon lines and the flow of essence, and was honestly more than a little conservative in its rigid adherence to proven geomantic principles from Inks' viewpoint. She knew she could rebuild that if she had the time, and probably even improve on it. But the manse, now ruined, had been built on a demesne of sunlight stronger than anything she'd ever seen. It was polluted and tainted by death, but she was _sure_ that if she could just get a look inside, she could figure out the design. 

Rebuilding it, though, would mean first cleansing the shadowland. That would be a greater challenge - salting it would throw off the geomantic flavour of the soil, and it was too anchored to Creation for sunlight to have dispelled it. Sorcery might achieve something - but only from the very heart of the shadowland, and it would need to be a spell of terrible power.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, in order))  
> ST: ((Some basic shadowland mechanics that pretty much match core, the city is "merely" harmoniously balanced according to geomantic lore by someone who knew the established rules but wasn't very innovative, creative or willing to take risks, and the temple was a 4-dot manse on a demesne that's now split between Solar and Abyssal flavours.))  
> ST: ((Cleansing the shadowland with salt would throw off the calibrations for the blueprints Inks could reverse-engineer, doing it with Sorcery would take a Sapphire Working/Adamant Spell.))  
> [Inks: (Alright, and I assume I'm only capable of Terrestrial Workings, is that accurate?)  
> ST: ((Oh, and Inks is pretty sure that the essence tokens for what's now an uncapped Solar/Abyssal demesne are going to collect in the ruined temple somewhere - it's the central point of the whole geomantic layout.))  
> ST: ((At the moment, yes.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> Inks: (I can safely destroy the buildings and deny the ghosts inside warrens and holes to hide in from the sun, is what I'm seeing.)  
> Inks: (Did my aides track down those other sorcery books?)  
> ST: ((Roll, uh... Int+Bur, I suppose.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +1;Inks rolled [2, 5, 2, 9, 4, 1, 5, 7, 2, 8] for a compiled value of 4.  
> 

* * *

After some haggling and another payment that could probably have fed Maji for a month, Inks is made the proud owner of _The Loom of Paisap_ ; a rather philosophical tome to do with shaping the earth, building and reinforcing things, and calling on construction demons. As well as Raising the Earth's Bones, it teaches the summoning rituals for the hopping puppeteers of Malfeas, an Earth-aspected Ritual of Elemental Empowerment and - Inks notes with interest - the greatly-valued Water From Stone. 

Less than a day after she buys it, a message from the Despot arrives, offering the standard terms given to all sorcerers who know this last spell - to cast it for the city in return for generous payment, and thereby bolster Gem's private water supplies. 

The rarer _Scutum Magicae _, on the other hand, didn't seem to be available any longer. Apparently another buyer expressed interest in the book after Inks had first gone looking, and had bought it while she was busy raising her factory-complex - though the seller was eager enough for repeat business to describe it as an informative text for the paranoid sorcerer (or employer thereof), with spells for defense and protection both physical and otherwise.__  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. Good way to stagger advancement)  
> 

Having completed her research for the moment, Inks called Carsa to her office, finally able to dedicate enough thought to the lingering issue- "The townhouse got attacked? What the hell happened?"

Carsa um'd and uh'd a little; still evidently a bit shaken even after a week and a half. "There... there were - was, sorry ma'am - there was a scuffle outside, yes? Shouting, the second evening after you left. So I looked, a-and I thought it might be the Lord Sulieman. But they were dressed rougher than his lot, and carrying scimitars and torches. They were marching on the house, I think, but someone stopped them - just one. One of the Ragged, I think, or it looked like. I didn't get a clear look at 'em, they came at the group from behind. Laid into them with a staff - brutal, they were, and awfully strong. I, um..."

She ducked her head and fiddled, shame-faced. "I was scared, so I ran back into the house and hid until the shouting stopped. When I came back out an hour later, they were all gone - the Ragged won, I think, and the others dragged the ones he'd beaten unconscious away. They splintered the door and broke a few of the pots around the entrance, but didn't manage anything else."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Well done on succeeding at your Mysterious Ally (3) roll. : D))  
> Inks: (heh!)  
> 

Inks pursed her lips, humming. "Maji!" She turned to the courtyard, and her tiger padded out to join her. "Think you can smell something out here?" She pointed at the courtyard gate and portal to the street. The tiger gave her a slow, lazy blink, as if to tell her he was not a _dog_... but he complied nonetheless.

>   
> Inks: (Maji's Per+survival. Any difficulty/penalty from how long ago it was?)  
> ST: ((It was a six-day ride to and from El-Galabi, plus a week of research. That sort of timescale basically makes it inapplicable - the Seventh Leg has a lot of smells in it already, so a fortnight is enough for any traces of a fight to be scoured away and trodden over completely.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, without supernatural scenting, at least)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

"Hmm..." Inks rubbed her chin, idly contemplative.

She turned to Carsa, nodding kindly. "Do you know why the mob attacked?"

Carsa shook her head. "They seemed angry, but... I don't know what they wanted or why, ma'am. I'm very sorry." She seemed more than a little guilty about having run and hidden inside. 

In response to that, Inks just gathered the young woman up in a hug and laughed. "You're not trained for it and I haven't thought to hire guards yet. You did fine."  
  


>   
> ST: ((any further actions?))  
> Inks: (Thinking)  
> Inks: (What's Carsa's response to the hug?)  
> 

Carsa seemed cheered by the hug; her fears of having failed her employer settled - though Inks can still sense a certain unhappiness at the discovery of her lack of courage.

>   
> ST: ((Not beating herself up about the attack anymore, but some understandable moping about the realisation that she's pretty low-Valour.)  
> Inks: (I getcha.)  
> 

Resolving to work on Carsa's confidence, Inks considered the matter closed for the night and urged her head of house staff to take the rest of the night off. Having said that, she joined Maji for a relaxing night under the stars in the courtyard, before turning in herself. Work would resume the next morning.

Rest and refreshed, Inks threw herself into work once more. She checked in with House Bhalasus and any potential consultations they required of her, followed by a report on and by her investors in the Hepatizon facility. The orphanage was functioning, but it was still a week-to-week stopgap against the constant fleshcrafting. Perhaps she couldn't stop the Neomah from making offspring, but she could influence what they make? Something to consider.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Oh yeah; one thing Inks definitely got from that description - Carsa described the Ragged saviour as being brutal with their attacks, and they were using a staff, which is enough to crack heads and break bones. But there were no corpses left, so apparently they held back enough to avoid killing anyone.))  
> Inks: (I gathered!)  
> ST: ((cool, just making sure))  
> 

Before noon, she requested advice from Sahlak and the Dream of Flesh on reputable sentries and private security- aiming to hire at least two long-term guards for her townhouse, and making a point to furnish one of her spare rooms as a guardhouse/bunk. She'd have to start expanding into neighboring properites soon. Along the way she decommissioned her gemcrafting facility, banishing the demon laborers as part of the process. The former slaughterhouse was now free to be repurposed.

In the evening, she began drafting plans of a smaller side project, quickly determining that it would be better to just expand her townhouse property than try to cram it into a single space. Local property value in the Seventh Leg was still not particularly good or bad, and would change as she continued to extend her influence. Lastly, she extended a request to visit the tanneries and other businesses that bought the byproducts of her Hepatizon complex, and she waited patiently for their reply.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so hiring mortal guards of good quality, checking in on House Bhasalus about Consulting, clearing out the gemcraft plant in favor of a different thing, not sure yet, and examining ways to better handle the Neomah population boom. And examining local businesses.)  
> ST: ((Cool. Guards is easy; that won't need a roll. Will you spring to equip them with better weaponry/armour/etc than they come with? Also, will you clear out the gemcraft plant entirely, or move it to your factory-complex?))  
> Inks: (I am not going to restart gemcrafting right this second. I would want to do a proper project with appropriate, magnitude-scale production, which requires re-negotiation with The Despot anyway)  
> ST: ((Heh. True. Okay, so what do you mean by checking re consulting?))  
> Inks: (I would appreciate a scene in which the guards are introduced to Inks. I have an Idea. Consulting I mean 'are there any jobs that need her attention, on-camera or off.)  
> ST: ((Ah, right. Yes, there probably are quite a few jobs piled up that need her attention for the design phases.))  
> Inks: (So unless those jobs can contribute something cool, we can abstract them as rolls that happen)  
> ST: ((... oh, huh. Hmm. We may need to retcon something.))  
> Inks: (Go on)  
> ST: ((Because it just occurred to me that Inks' neomah-bordello is in violation of the Sahlak monopoly unless she's paying them a reasonably large cut - can we assume that she is? That wouldn't be hard to negotiate through Ahlam.))  
> ST: ((Crap, I must have been really off my game to miss that.))  
> Inks: (Oh, yeah. Good catch. It happens, and I have a generally positive relation with them aside from that one investor.)  
> ST: ((lol))  
> Inks: (So yes, I will pay their fee for now.)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (Anyway, so there are some consulting jobs, but like, unless an Important Character or Opportunity shows up, I don't think we need to say more than 'Inks did this')  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (So introduce the guards whenever you're ready)  
> ST: ((Do you want a choice of guard options, or just go for decent guards and skip to meeting them?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... skip to meeting them.)  
> 

* * *

Reading Sahlak Ahlam was always difficult, but Inks thought he seemed rather pleased with her as he welcomed her in - perhaps for drawing some of the more unsettling clientele away from the Dream of Flesh with her neomah, or perhaps for giving him a feather in his cap through the monopoly fees she was paying. Regardless, Maji padded over to be cooed over by his favourite among the girls there as Inks and Ahlam settled down to talk. After running through the various pros and cons, she elected to hire from the same mercenary vendor that catered to the Dream, and a man and woman from the Stonehorn Company arrived at her townhouse the next morning. 

These were professionals, Inks could tell; wearing reinforced leather armour under a layer of thin, loose white fabric. Each carried a club, scimitar and firewand, and bore a stylised horn-tattoo on their forehead proclaiming their allegiance. 

Inks nodded. "Thank you for your prompt agreement to this contract- I expect two seasons." She asked their names and outlined their responsibilities, as well as enumerating their perks as one of her employees. Medical care for themselves and immediate family free of charge. "I am also willing to improve your arms and armor as my ability to do so grows." She put her hands on her hips, while Maji prowled around behind her in the center of the courtyard. "Any questions?"

The man nodded. "Rumour has it you're hiring us based on the attack a couple of weeks ago. Who can we expect to be up against?" 

"I can't say exactly- upset civilians, maybe other mercenaries. She frowned. "I'll be trying to find out who has it in for me as well, and I'll make sure you know everything you need to protect my home and employees." Maji growled low and disdainfully. "My friend here is more interested in protecting me, you understand." 

She had to give them credit - they leaned back a little, but didn't flinch. Of course, they probably knew about Maji in advance of coming, but he still tended to be pretty intimidating in person. The woman tapped her tattoo in a salute. "Ma'am," she acknowledged. "How many guards total are you intending to hire?" 

"So far just two- I did consider demon sentinels, but I can always escalate to that later, if necessary." She looked at her townhouse. "I feel like I can support six guards before expanding my property, but I'd rather start small."

The two trade a look. "Six guards would be a good number," the woman offers. "That would allow a garrison of four in the building at all times, plus two on regular walking patrols of the neighborhood. And a two-man watch overnight." 

Inks frowned, eying them both and the odd look they exchanged. "Then I expect you to recommend four more guards of excellent quality.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Not an odd look, just a conferral one - she can tell that this is a standard structure for this sort of job, with patrols and sleep shifts and overnight watch and so on.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

The man snaps a salute of his own. "Ma'am. We look forward to working for you, then."

"As do I." Inks grinned.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so i think the... last-ish thing to work on is learning Flight of the Brilliant Raptor, which can happen over downtime. Is there anything you want to poke Inks with event-wise?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. No, nothing more.))  
> ST: ((So yeah, assuming a decent testing range - and you've got an entire desert to play with - FotBR is just a matter of training time and xp))  
> Inks: (Alright, any thoughts on the session, and XP?)  
> ST: ((5xp + 1mxp. I'm pleased to have had Mysterious Ally show up; I've been waiting for a good chance to make Inks aware of them, hee. And yes, there is at least one entity or faction or group that appears to hold less-than-positive views of Inks, to the point of violence.))  
> ST: ((You?))  
> Inks: (Enjoyed it! I noticed we had a small problem of not a lot of scene-setting, so there was a degree of Talking Heads going on. I also feel like we're in a sort of... urbane, white-collar Exalted as opposed to a proper Adventure Setting?)  
> Inks: (Like, not that every scene needs to be dripping with action, but I was thinking during the research stunt that I wasn't able to fit in something like dusty stacks in an ancient library guarded by petulant old spirits?)  
> Inks: (We're both too... focused on getting Going that we don't stop to really flesh things out. I'm always feeling rushed because I'm always on call)  
> ST: Hmm. Yes, fair point.  
> ST: okay, Spiritual Side of Exalted. I will make a note to include more of it.  
> Inks: it basically makes Gem feel Less Magical  
> Inks: not necessarily Spirits  
> ST: yeah, I getcha  
> Inks: but I don't feel like i'm engaging in a world designed for kung fu battles  
> ST: okay, hmm  
> ST: I shall think about this thing  
> Inks: please do. And thank you for running!  
> 


	9. Session 9: A Year in Gem

# Session 9: A Year in Gem

It was, Inks realized with no small surprise, coming up on a year that she'd been in Gem. In only another week or so, they'd be into Resplendent Wood - and at that point last year she had been leaving the sand-port city of Ramabar Minah. She'd had nowhere to call home, no companions and no profession - if you didn't count the occasional bit of free medical aid passed out to the needy. Now she had all three. 

She also had a rather worried-sounding note from Soft Ash Minal; the woman in charge of her orphanage, asking for a meeting at her earliest convenience.

Inks had not spent a particularly long time around young children, save for her younger sister, and even then they were rarely allowed to play or interact during her childhood. She had made a point to examine all of the infants created by her Neomah employees, confirming their health and wellness. Past that she had not seen them much. 

Setting aside their origins, they were _children_. She knew enough to brace herself for whatever was to come, and made her way to Minal's office.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hmm. Do neomah make _newborns_ , or _babies?_ I'mma say that they're not newborns - canon doesn't specify, but it doesn't give the impression that "helpless creature that can barely move" is the default. Less than a twelve-month-old's development, though; they're not toddling. So a bunch of screaming babies who can crawl, basically.))  
>  (I'm game either way, all I know is that they can make hybrids, new demons/blooded, and help with terrestrial exaltation)  
> 

* * *

Soft Ash was a portly, grey-haired woman with the burnt tan of someone who lived up on the surface of Gem rather than in the shaded tunnels below the surface. She met Inks in her messy office near the orphanage's entrance. Even behind solid stone walls, the screaming of babies further into the building could be heard. 

Unlike most people around Inks these days, she didn't bow or sign a blessing when Inks came in. Instead, she bobbed a tired, harassed-looking nod, shuffled the explosion of papers on her desk around to arrange it into a different, equally incomprehensible mess and got straight to business.

"We need more staff," she said bluntly. "We're not running low yet, but we will be within the next season. This orphanage; it's taken a lot of brats off the streets and out of the nooks and crannies they were holed up in already, and it can manage them. But the little ones from your Facility; we've had a hunnerd' fifty already, and they keep coming in at a steady pace. They're young enough that they need a lot of care - they can't walk, can't feed themselves, need changing... and there just aren't enough gals I trust to do the job right. Come the middle of Fire, I'm going to have to start usin' people I don't trust with the younger children an' shuffling the caregivers around. A season after that, it'll only get worse. We can't expand forever."

Inks sucked her teeth and nodded. "That's on me- I didn't think to check how fast Neomah could work. So we need more staff- we need more _trusted_ staff. Then after that better trained staff." She moved to help Soft Ash put her desk in some semblance of order, drawing upon her own arete and skill while she did so. "The other thing I need to do is lower our population growth, but that's on me and dealing with the facility."

She looked around then, before locking eyes with Soft Ash. "Is there anything I can do right now to help? If not I'm going to see about solving your manpower problem."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll me Int+Bur for ORGANISATION-FU! Diff 3 for "it is a bit of a chaotic mess".))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks rolled 6, 6, 8, 1, 5, 3, 1, 6, 9, 2 for a compiled value of 5.  
> 

The desk really was a bit of a mess. There were quite a lot of notes on the "goblin-children" that Soft Ash had been jotting down to work out how to care for them properly - they were aggressive, ugly to human eyes and more than a few had been born with teeth. She'd clearly been struggling with finding people willing to nurse them, and her predictions about the growth rate of the population were unsettlingly pessimistic.

Soft Ash sighed in relief. "If you can deal with the rate they're coming in; that's the most important thing long-term," she said. "But more staff will help a lot." A weight seemed to lift off her shoulders - or maybe that was just the now-tidy desk. She was certainly looking at Inks with a lot more respect now. "Thank you kindly for your time, ma'am. I'll send another runner if we have any  
more problems."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice. I am going to move to the neomah facility in a sec, but I wanted to stop and really pin down why this sequence was good It purely existed as a 'state of the problem' scene, intended to convey the terms and conditions of the current challenge. You told me what was wrong and gave me a rough idea to fix it, but it was still open-ended.)  
> 

* * *

Inks nodded once more, squaring her shoulders and considered a number of solutions to the problem. None were immediately forthcoming, but she still had other tasks to resolve. After checking in with Carsa about the state of her home and recently employed guards, she headed out to her Hepatizon complex and the attached Neomah campus. High walls shielded the Neomah's tin towers from casual view, and the blood-scented smoke from the refinery was warded off by heavy perfumes and incense in large (expensive) braziers. She wasn't particularly fond of the vaguely spicy scent, but whatever it was, it was a compromise for the more hell-native aromas the Neomah could have used. 

The towers themselves had grown somewhat, with tent awnings and other 'local' structures appended to them to further embellish the campus. Inks checked in with her overseer and 'madame' before requesting those Neomah not engaged with a client to meet with her in a private courtyard in the rear of the campus.  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((You can add more description if you like, but I realized that Inks would've decided a lot of that herself too))  
>  Inks: ((here is a good opportunity to show off Demons/Magical Stuff in a very direct, on-camera way))  
> 

Their summoner ordered, and they obeyed. A good two thirds of her neomah slunk into the courtyard; a parade of bared lavender flesh that moved in ways that could inspire lust in anything short of a corpse. Few bothered with clothing, but studs, hoops, beads and feathers decorated their flesh; hanging from piercings or threaded from chains. Many wore elaborate jewellery pieces that Inks recognized as heranhal work.

The scent of them wafted across the courtyard, heavy and unlike anything in Creation. Inks could feel her body reacting to it, as would any being that was exposed. One specimen; slightly bluer than the others and with a delicate tiara gracing her bald head, seemed to have been elected spokesdemon. Her jewelery glinted in the green light of the tower-fires as she stepped forward and bowed low. 

"What is it you wish of us, honoured mistress?" she asked with a honeyed voice. 

Inks licked her lips without meaning to, before checking the motion, and resisted the urge to take a deep breath. "Thank you for being prompt, I don't want to keep you." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. 

"I cannot and will not prevent you from fleshweaving- that is your nature." She began. "But I would like to negotiate terms as to _what_ you can fleshcraft. I have sufficient cattle blood for example that can be added to your available samples, and can provide other donors as well. My request is that you make 'livestock' instead of children or full-blood demons." Having declared her starting terms, Inks waited for a counter offer.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((... you know, it's super-annoying that neomah don't have a Limit condition given in Core.))  
>  ST: ((Ah well, I know what it /should/ be. So.))  
>  Inks: (I think that fleshweaving IS their limit)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, I tend to run it as "when not paid in flesh for plying their trade".))  
> 

The lead neomah pouted fetchingly, stepping closer. "We will of course follow your bidding, honoured mistress," she said. Her fingers moved eagerly through the air, sketching. "What manner of livestock do you wish? Midwryths, perhaps? We are assuredly capable of recreating them, should you so desire."  
0228 Inks: "What is a Midwryth?" Inks cocked her head to one side, smirking at the spokesdemon's flirtation.

"Why, the exquisite prey!" The demon seems surprised that Inks does not know of them. "They were bred from mortal stock originally, after all. Humans and those beasts that mimic the luminata. No?" 

She shrugs. "They are hunted for their hides, which are beautiful, their songs, which are made beautiful by pain, and for the thrill of the hunt. We serfs are banned from preying on them under the Law of the Desert, but many citizens keep stables of them."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hellish ideas of "livestock" may differ from those of Creation.))  
> 

Inks frowned, contemplating. She rubbed her chin while mulling the description over. "Luminata are the deer that eat men, if I recall correctly... Anyway, when I'm ready I'll ask to see an example of a midwryth, but for now I'd like to help design some product that meets both our needs." Having said that, she moved to a nearby table and pulled a sheaf of blank papers from the bag at her hip. Stick of charcoal in hand, she nodded to the lead Neomah. "I'm going to write out a list of traits that I require you not to include in anything you make."

>   
>  ST: ((wise choice))  
>  Inks: (Okay, so I think I'm ready to actually lay down terms, I'm getting the impression that as bound demons, they aren't going to weasel word my orders as long as they're not disruptive to their natures. So if I tell them 'Don't make people' they won't. Is that accurate?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. They'll pout about it for a bit and possibly try to seduce Inks out of the decision (or just seduce her period), but they'll obey what she tells them to do as long as they're still paid in flesh for their services.))  
>  ST: ((The list is a good idea, since the main issue is "neomah don't really understand some of the things that might make humans upset."))  
>  Inks: (There is a non-zero chance Inks will indulge, if for no other reason than 'well I'm a sorcerer, I gotta try at least once. but probably not today. Do I need to roll to make the list, or actually roleplay out what can't be made?)  
>  Inks: (The reason I ask is, if I actually make a list, anything I _don't_ list out becomes fair game for you to 'gotcha' me with, but at the same time, is 'gotcha' style play what you really want to encourage?)  
>  ST: ((... honestly, no, I think we can assume that Inks closes all the loopholes. It's more a matter of some time spent thinking than anything - the neomah _want_ to obey the spirit of her orders, after all.))  
>  ST: ((Though do recall that indulging with a neomah means that part of you will be going into a child.))  
>  ST: ((Sex makes babies, etc.))  
>  Inks: (sure, but that's for later. Alright, so my intention is for the results of the neomah bordello to either be banishable demons, new species or not, or preferably demonblooded livestock like cattle, which can be streamed into the hepatizon facility as blood/bile and possibly other exotic components. Until I know whatever is made isn't fun for creation-types, it'll stay in-house. When I'm in the right position, I do like the idea ES had of donor human organs, but that's for later.)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so next up. I have essentially 3 'businesses' I have to keep an eye on. Hepatizon, Bordello, and Orphanage. El-Galabi, while important, is not time-pressure. Orphanage still needs to get manpower solved, but the rate of additional children has dropped a lot.)  
>  Inks: (As far as labor goes, trustworthy and skilled caregivers are 'scarce'. Also, a side question has Suleiman left yet?)  
> 

The list took a few hours and resulted in some puzzled questions and a few horrifying revelations - like the fact that the midwryth were apparently human-faced deer that were _fully sapient_ beings created as prey for powerful demons - but the neomah seemed to get the gist of what Inks wanted from them without too much trouble. Inks left the compound happy in the knowledge that she wouldn't be over-stressing the orphanage any further, but a little shaken by what she'd learnt.

>   
>  ST: ((Roll Compassion for MALFEAS WHY))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled 1, 9, 2 for a compiled value of 1.  
>  Inks: (Okay- so while i'm fine rolling this virtue, it's sort of a weird case, because what can Inks _do_ about it? She's compelled to act, but to do what?)  
>  Inks: (The impression I've gotten from Soft Ash, btw, is that while available workers exist, she is not in a position to find/interview them, so if Inks can do that/apply her larger pool to the task, I might make something happen)  
>  ST: ((Nothing at present time, but Compassion rolls like this that she doesn't suppress will - as well as, you know, leaving her feeling shitty for a while - set the ball rolling for if she ever goes there. And yes; Suleiman left not long after Calibration - Inks set up the Facility since then.))  
>  ST: ((Fair assessment wrt Soft Ash, though she had a point on "sooner or later Gem will run out of trained/trustworthy child-carers if the goblin-babies keep rolling in".))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, so you're using the mechanic to inform me how I should act in-character. That works. And right, but since I've curtailed the goblin children, that resource won't be used up so fast.)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  Inks: (Okay... So on the note of anchors, I want to engage with them, but you almost have to plan ahead and secure anchors before you even buy spells, or buy spells knowing you'll need to spend game time securing an anchor. The former is almost always the optimal plan, because you usually have more time than xp. Anyway, looking for spiritual allies is good. Also, Inks does have Backing 3 in (something), but I don't really know what.)  
>  Inks: (House Bhalasus, I guess?, or Three Jewel Bank... Anyway, while you're answering, Imma write the 'find more staff' action.)  
>  ST: ((We've said this before, I think. Backing 3 (House Bhalasus Firm) - architectural consultant position, so she can set her office's design minions to doing work on various things, and also hire day labour crews a lot more easily.))  
>  Inks: (thanks, I'll write that on her sheet finally)  
>  ST: ((Sorry. ^_^'))  
> 

* * *

Having negotiated with the Neomah, Inks returned to her townhouse to solve Soft Ash's problem, drafting a handful of letters with deft speed to local hospices, clinics and schools in the wider Gem area. She couched the request in the terms of 'intership' or 'apprenticeship' for particularly talented individuals in the medical sciences.  
  


>   
>  Inks: ((This is my attempt to do a shorter-effective stunt and not ramble at length. Goal is to get interviews going, but we don't need specific NPCs just yet. I however deliberately wrote this in such a way that any specific NPCs who want to get involved can.)  
>  Inks: (It occurs to me also that letters have rules of 'written social attack' for a reason, so ifyou want me to roll cha+pres, I can)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yes, go on then. Only Diff 1 for "getting the message out there", but degree of success will inform how much of a response she gets.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +2; Inks rolled 7, 4, 8, 9, 9, 10 for a compiled value of 8.  
>  Inks: (Lulz)  
> 

Most of the surface had already been thoroughly canvased by Soft Ash - the woman knew her business; it's why Inks hired her in the first place, and she had a respectable number of contacts in the upper city. It's the lower levels that Inks spreads her influence to, and she gets a solid stream of interest. Not quite as much as she had for her Facility, since there's less profit in raising children, but enough to start a good run of interviews.

Among the applicants, Inks is a little surprised to see one she recognizes - Maji's favourite from the Dream of Flesh. 

A careful arrangement of schedules ensured the most familiar face was last- though Inks made a point to have both Carsa and Maji keep her company. The applicants all had waited in her townhouse's central courtyard, called in one by one to her office. For this last meeting though, Inks stepped out and joined her final guest on the same level. "Heya!" She sidled up next to Maji and laid a hand on his head, idly stroking the broad expanse of his snout. "You're looking for work?" 

The girl - Telalsi, Inks reminded herself - nodded eagerly. "Ahlam makes us take two days off in seven," she said. "Normally we spend them relaxing and looking pretty for the clients, but I'd rather put my time to work." She flipped a braid over her shoulder. "And I was the eldest of four; I'm used to dealing with screaming kids." 

"Middle child here." Inks admitted. "I'll tell you straight- a lot of the children are demonblooded, with obvious hints of their parentage. If that'll be a problem, we can work something out, but I make a point to do regular checkups every season. The children are as far as I can tell healthy, if not 'normal'." She fixed Telalsi with a look. "But I'm always on the lookout for talent and you're already good in my books." Maji huffed expressively, before moving around to slot the bulk of his side against the curve of Telalsi's back. "Maji's books too."

"Do you think you can handle working for me?" Inks put her hands on her hips, grinning. 

Telalsi's eyes all but caught fire from the inside. "Definitely!" she swore, making a fist. "I'm a _great_ investment, you won't be disappointed! I could even..." She bit her lip and frowned. "Well, I could _ask_ Ahlam about cutting back my hours in the Dream. He might allow it..." 

Inks hummed "Well, Ahlam and I have a fairly positive relationship, so I don't want to poach you out from under him. I do have to ask- do you like working at the Dream of Flesh?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I actually am not 100% sure if the DoF is a brothel-brothel or not, I know it deals in dreamstones as well...?)  
>  ST: ((It is definitely a brothel-brothel.))  
> 

Telalsi shrugged. "It's a trade. Mam was a harlot, but she wasn't a brothel-girl; she worked the tunnels. Ahlam's low enough in the Rings to run a better class of place - no unruly patrons, nice rooms, that sort of thing." She frowned, tickling Maji on a paw and letting him rest a massive head on her shoulder for chin-scratches. "You're asking to make sure I'm not where Carsa was, right?" She nodded at the other girl, who flinched a little at the reminder.

"Somewhat. I've no real moral or ethical objection to sensual service, but I dislike exploitation, and I don't think Ahlam would allow for that kind of thing. How about you work with me on weekends, and we'll both talk to Ahlam about your hours. Thinking about it, I am in something of a strange position- I am paying dues for my Neomah outside the city to House Sahlak, so on the one hand, I'm cutting into their monopoly. On the other, I'm going to be a top-earner soon _and_ I've drawn away most of the really awkward clients..." She nodded to herself, smiling broadly. "I think I have some goodwill with the House now."

With that, Inks produced a scroll with a flourish and drafted a contract right before Telalsi's eyes, indicating terms of service, hours worked and her due compensation. Suffice to say Inks was generous, both in wealth and perks.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Whirling Brush~)  
>  Inks: (I'm also not kidding, I don't know what'd be a good value, but Inks is willing to pay most of these people (they're of high quality) a significant salary. at least Res 3)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Where's she getting that from? She's getting a high Res 4, I think, from her Facility, and another Res 3 from House Bhalasus - but a large chunk of the latter is going towards feeding Maji.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm, good question. Okay for clarification, we're _not_ using the 'nested' resources of 2e. How much can Inks throw around?)  
>  ST: ((Well, each dot is about 10x the dot below it. So Res 4 allows for 10 Res 3 paychecks or 100 Res 2. Res 2 being average modern West.))  
>  Inks: (West as in 'first world USA/europe, okay. On that note it occurs to me that having rejiggered the neomah means I'm spending a bit less on extra cattle for the heranhals, but still a chunk. Okay, I'll accept 100 Res 2 salaries for the moment- can I get an idea of how many employees I have... 6 guards, Carsa, Atali, Mneli, Soft Ash, + X orphanage workers, let's say 6 more guards around the neomah bordello, a madame and 2 secretaries for her....)  
>  Inks: (At least 19 people under Inks's direct employ. And a chunk of the HEpatizon payout is tithed to Sahlak for the right to run the bordello)  
>  Inks: (if the orphanage is an implicit 'mag 3' project, it probably needs mag 3 workers + Soft Ash)  
>  Inks: (So according to your scale in the project doc, that's -75 people.)  
> 

Taking the contract, Telalsi read through it - slowly, and with the aid of a finger, but all the way through to the end. Her eyes got wider and wider as they moved down the terms, and her voice was shaky when she looked up.

"Whoring is a trade, but I always planned to do something more. _Be_ something more. Signing on with you..." She glanced down at the list of terms again. "Signing on with you seems like a gods-blessed choice. Madame," she added with a quirked grin. 

Something seemed to occur to her, and she cocked her head. "Do you want to find out? About the Sahlaks, I mean. I can ask around the girls in Red Stone; see what the House gossip is. A lot of people - even the sirs and madames - they forget we have ears even when we're on our backs. Ahlam's better than most at remembering we have brains, but even he slips up when he's chatting to his cousins sometimes; forgets we're in earshot."

"I won't overlook good insight." Inks admitted. "But I'd rather not make a habit of spying on friends and allies. I'll think about that, but it's not going to influence my decision to hire you." She grinned, eyebrows waggling. "I am going to, if that wasn't clear."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I am enjoying this interaction, btw. I'm just not poking at it with mechanics just yet)  
>  ST: (Yeah, some of this is kind of plot-level non-crunch stuff that decides direction by giving the player choices and hooks. Though you can take Read Motivation actions whenever.))  
>  Inks: (Agreed)  
> 

Telalsi beamed at her. "You won't regret it! And you know, most of the big Houses are probably spying on you, so fair's fair, you might as well do the same back."

"Right!" Inks grinned and pulled the other woman into an impromptu hug. "Also- got an idea. Are there any local rivals to the Dream of Flesh, or similar establishments that are fallen on hard times?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I got an idea to test-case out the feat of taking over an organization to secure a Backing-Anchor, no rush on doing it today, but it's an Idea.)  
> 

"Well, what do you mean by 'rivals'?" Telalsi asked, folding her arms. "Everyone in vice works for House Sahlak in this city; that's how things work. I mean..." She glanced at Carsa. "Almost everyone. Though I guess... the Dream is, what, maybe..."

She counted off on her fingers for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, if you split all the vice work in the city into five rings, right? Fifth and fourth are street- and tunnel-work; third are cheap brothels, second are the dreamstone parlours and courtesan houses in Red Stone, and first are the glitter palaces that only nobles use. The Dream's about the bottom of the second ring - about a third of the way down Red Stone." 

"There are maybe half a dozen other places around that level, if that's what you mean," she continued, and pursed her lips, running through a mental checklist. "Two that offer a mix of drugs and whoring, uh... oh, that one niche brothel with the pool, and then a couple of dream parlours that are suffering 'cause they don't have good enough dreamers." She grinned. "Imagination's the thing you. need there, and they don't have it. Also; crappy dreamstones." 

"Alright..." Inks rubbed her chin, thinking. "So everyone _pays_ to House Sahlak, but not everyone is _run_ by the House- that's what I needed to know. I don't want to take over an in-house business, that defeats the point."

She spread her hands as if to demonstrate. "I don't want to make the Dream of Flesh look bad, but I don't know if Ahlam would be pleased at all with an outsider like me going 'hey I could really make this a top-earner'. I want to make _Ahlam_ look good, because he's been good to me..."

Inks scratched her head. "Why is it that everything in Gem makes it so the only thing to do is take over entire Houses?"

"Other than the Despot- I know that's why, just..." She let out a wordless huff of frustration."

Telalsi pursed her lips and shrugged again. " _Most_ of the top places are Sahlak-run. All of the glitter palaces, and most of the top of the second ring. If you're going for places that just pay the fees that you could move in on, you can cross one of the dreamhouses and both drug-brothels off your list. Then again, I hear the House isn't real happy with the cousin they got running the Scented Veil. Kick him out and turn the place around; they might thank you for it." 

"That sounds _perfect_."  
  


>   
>  Inks: I am good to wrap here. Any thoughts on session? I enjoyed it lots  
>  ST: I love how eager Inks is to engage with NPCs and develop them.  
>  ST: It's very refreshing.  
>  Inks: yeah? thanks  
>  Inks: sometimes it's tough because I'm not sure how much 'game' there is in GETTING to an NPC as opposed to just talking to them  
>  Inks: but it is nice  
>  ST: All I have to do is dangle a person and she jumps on them and starts organizing their desk and waving offers of employment. ^_^  
>  ST: it's both entertaining and useful for game purposes  
>  Inks: is Telalsi a romance option?  
>  Inks: (teasing)  
>  ST: Heh.  
>  ST: I wasn't actually expecting Telalsi to be so easy to write. Sigh. She is probably one of the girls that Ahlam has privately marked "worryingly ambitious".  
>  Inks: Is she attractive, beyond the minimum of 'being a courtesan'?  
>  Inks: aside from 'braid' i didn't get an idea of what she looked like yet  
>  ST: App 3 or so - I've cameo'd her a few times. I'll see about getting a reference pic.  
>  ST: She can probably boost herself up to App 4ish with makeup.  
>  ST: And is a good, creative dreamer, which makes her valuable.  
>  Inks: gotcha  
>  Inks: Okay, so the Orphanage is now more or less taken care of. I do understand that I've been throwing a lot of plots around, so thank you for keeping pace  
>  ST: Indeed! 5xp + 1mxp.  
>  Inks: (Cool, I got 4 mortal xp and 17 enlightened xp to play with  
>  Inks: Alright, so my rough plan now, baring new insight as we develop the scene ss to stage a takeover of the Scented Veil (hostile or otherwise) and then rapidly improve it  
>  ST: heh  
>  ST: displacing the Sahlak in poor standing rather than going for one of the independent places that just pays the fees?  
>  Inks: Huh, I thought the Veil _Was_ the pay-fee type  
>  Inks: that was the impression I got  
>  Inks: wait  
>  Inks: i r fail reading comprehension  
>  ST: ... no, he's a cousin of the House. That is to say, a Sahlak cousin they have running the Scented Veil.  
>  ST: who they are not happy with  
>  Inks: yes, that seems like my best bet  
>  Inks: if I fail, I fail  
>  ST: :P  
>  ST: cool cool  
> 


	10. Session 10: A Court Sorcerer of Gem

# Session 10: A Court Sorcerer of Gem

Sadly, Telalsi was working the next day, so Inks would have to wait to get her input into further aspects of the Sahlak business. 

Yawning, Inks sauntered downstairs from her master bedroom, noting Carsa, Atali and Mneli emerging from their rooms and greeting the night guard shift. Maji met her at the second floor landing, putting his head under her arm as they walked. Breakfast followed- of particular note was Maji, carefully ripping healthy morsels of cattle from bone.

Her guards however, had not.

Sipping her morning tea, Inks's lips quirked to one side, then the other. "Maji, let's go to market. I think you could use some variance in your diet." 

Maji's head rose with interest, and he let a splintered chunk of bone and meat fall back to the platter as he stood, tail twitching. Both guards in the room took a step back.

Carsa, by contrast, merely gave him a respectful curtsy and edged around behind him. "There's goat, ma'am," she offered, "from the mountain farms, if you're thinking of something other than cattle." 

Nodding once, Inks told Carsa to mind the property and take any messages for her, with that she called Maji to her side and headed to the market.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Scenebreak?)  
>  ST: ((Which market are you going to; the normal meat vendors?))  
>  Inks: (I was aiming to walk through Sunken Market, and find the meat vendors there, unless I'm misinformed as to what's sold there.)  
>  Inks: (Sunken Bazaar)  
>  ST: ((Yup, cool.))  
>  ST: ((That's the main Crown tunnel.))  
> 

* * *

The largest market of Gem was located beneath the surface of the city, in the Crown tier of the old lava tubes. Inks descended via one of the stairwells on Eight Scorpion, a few blocks away from the townhouse, and squinted against the change in the light.

Above-ground, daytime in Gem was a matter of blinding sunlight, baking heat and painfully bright blue skies even when the daystar was hidden behind the mountain. _Below_ -ground, the Sunken Bazaar was a mad riot of colour. Golden sunlight was reflected down through shafts and mirrors to be washed out by the whites and yellows of the brightest glowstones, then tinted further by the deeper glow of the reds and blues. Coloured glass dangling in chains from the stalls and ceiling or set in panes over the lightshafts and glowstones only made things more confusing.

The end result of the blend of colours was a strangely tinted radiance that Inks still couldn't compare to anything in her life before Gem. And it lit the mile-long length of the bazaar; stalls and shops set into the walls whose owners hawked rugs and curtains and furniture, hot meals and preserved food and water rations, weapons and tools, pottery and clothes... everything a woman and her giant tiger-familiar could want.

The tunnel was as crowded and bustling as ever, but Inks was fairly used to that by now. And it helped that she had the usual six-foot exclusion zone of people avoiding Maji. He was very helpful like that.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (yessss)  
>  Inks: (It occurs, App 5 woman is offset by GIANT TIGER)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Inks whistled softly, still impressed after living there for over a year. Maji turned his head left and right, snuffling and scenting wildly with an almost playful energy. She made a few cursory, impulse purchases- tapestries and gauzy wall hangings for her home, seeds for an indoor (hanging) garden, and a smattering of other projects. She paused at the meandering mess of clothier stalls and tailor enclaves- more than a few owners begged for her attention, begged for her to just try something on, to hire her on as a model like the other glittering beauties. (Who were likely, unfortunately, slaves.)

>   
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled [10, 4, 3] for a compiled value of 2.  
>  Inks: (... yeah, go inks, tripping your own compassion.)  
>  ST: ((lawl))  
> 

The drive to _do_ something was impossible to ignore, and she knew that logically the proper course of action was the long-term dissolution of slavery as an institution in Gem. In the immediate however, she sauntered up to the knot of merchants. "Gentlemen, ladies, I'd like to make you an offer." She waved grandly to the men and women performing the menial or aesthetically important tasks. "I want to buy their contracts."

This produces a fair amount of confusion and some whispering, followed by a lot of knowing looks. "Of course, milady," says one man; grinning at her widely. "Which of them do you wish? These two are Sahlak-trained; very good, very pretty."

He gestures at two of the models; a woman and a man modelling undergarments who appear rather nervous with the turn the conversation is taking. 

"You misunderstand." Inks declared. "All of them- those here that I can see." She put her hands on her hips, and Maji muscled in alongside her, adding weight to her offer. She rapidly calculated their value on the local market, as well as their actual objective value and quality- how well cared for they looked, and so on.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Invoking Insightful Buyer and Frugal Merchant Method, I now know the market value of these slave here compared to 'there', whatever it may be, and I can instantly assess their actual value/quality with Frugal Merchant.)  
>  Inks: (IBT also negates penalties on market conditions)  
>  ST: ((Ooo, nice. Hmm. A couple of them are naturally App 3, but for the most part they're untrained for anything besides looking pretty and there are only half a dozen of them. Low Res 3 purchase. Also, um, give me a reflexive Perception+Socialise roll.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled [1, 1, 8, 7, 9, 3, 7, 10] for a compiled value of 9.  
> 

The man's eyes widen, he paled dramatically, and Inks could see him quietly trying to shift so that there was a table between him and the giant tiger without moving in any way that might convince Maji to pounce. It was a common reaction to her familiar growling softly.

"Of... of course, milady," he stuttered, and named a price that was at _least_ twenty dinars more than the slaves were worth. Perhaps he was thinking that their makeup and clothes would make them look more attractive and valuable than they were. Perhaps he was just greedy. Either way, it didn't work.

Inks was also fairly sure that he thought she was buying them as bed-slaves. All half-dozen of them. As did his companions, from the looks they'd been exchanging. And given how merchants gossiped, this would be all over the market in... oh, perhaps half an hour? 

Inks considered how to quell the rumor, and then decided she generally didn't care. "I consider that price offensive." She pointedly did not specify further, and made an aggressive counter offer, softened slightly by a bright, winsome smile. "I remember those who treat me well, and I _record_ those who do not. Be mindful of that. I've made my offer, ladies and gentlemen, take it or leave it." With that, she turned on one soft-soled heel and made to move on.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Cha+Pres/Bur stunt to buy the slaves at fair value.)  
>  Inks: (Frugal Merchant gives me +3 autosux if the sellers were being dishonest)  
>  ST: ((lol. 2 die stunt, roll it.))  
>  ST: ((not that you need to)  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled [5, 5, 9, 8, 1, 6] for a compiled value of 5.  
> 

Inks turned to leave. Maji did not. In fact, his growl kicked up a notch, and she felt him take another step towards the man.

The ground probably didn't _actually_ shake as his paw came down, but from the sudden clamour of apologies, excuses and compliments that exploded behind her, it might as well have. The merchant she'd been speaking to was practically groveling. In short order, Inks had set up the payment and was leaving with half a dozen new slaves.

In deference to Maji's terrorizing of the shopkeeper, they were allowed to leave in clothing that more or less met her standards for no extra cost - which was to say; clothing worth more than anything they'd owned in their lives. 

In a quick move to reassure them all, Inks introduced herself (and Maji), though she did not immediately or publicly declare she was going to free them. (That was implied). Instead she whispered instructions to them under the guise of gently delivered but imperial orders. "You will attend to me as retinue today-" and so on. Her brief coaching allowed them to act as deferent and gracious attendants, turning an impromptu fit of compassion into a calculated display of wealth and excess.

Inks felt Maji's contribution was even more heartening, because once she adopted them as 'hers', Maji made a point to prowl around her new acquisitions, protectively and with great care paid to ward off attention he did not care for. Having resolved that, she headed further into Sunken Bazaar. She had _heard_ sorcerers sold their services here, so she at least wanted to try and spot that. 

And she made a point to scratch Maji's ears, reassuring him that they would get to the food soon enough.  
  


>   
>  Inks: Okay, Attempting to find 'sorcerers' in the Sunken Bazaar.)  
>  ST: ((Roll me Charisma+Socialise to buff her charity cases in acting as her retinue, and then Perception+Investigation to look for sorcerers.))  
>  Inks: !ex 4 +2; Inks rolled [5, 2, 2, 2] for a compiled value of 2.  
>  Inks: !ex 5;Inks rolled [7, 5, 8, 6, 1, 6, 10] for a compiled value of 4.  
>  Inks: (Okay, 4sux for the charisma+soc), and 2 sux for the find sorcerers)  
> 

They set off, retinue in tow. Inks had done her best in instructing her new employees, but they were still untrained and unused to acting as a retinue; flinching away from Maji, fidgeting nervously and occasionally murmuring to each other in low voices or missing what Inks said.

They weren't bad enough to embarrass her, thankfully, but she was probably only giving credence to the rumour of having bought half a dozen untrained bed-slaves by walking them around the market. Sadly, her search for any sorcerers went even less well. Thaumaturges there were, definitely - selling veils against the heat, cleaning tinctures, charms against disease, treatments to keep food from going bad... but if any who knew true sorcery were in Gem, they were not in the Sunken Bazaar.

... or possibly they were, and they were merely hidden away in some part of it that was too far away to visit. It was a mile long tunnel, and her feet were starting to hurt from walking down it. But on the balance of probabilities, Inks was fairly sure that they just weren't here. Sorcerers tended to attract attention, and she'd only heard of three in Gem who sounded like the real thing, but a smart thaumaturge with a talent for showmanship could easily pass himself off as one to an ignorant population who knew little of occult matters.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice, you made the failed roll instructive!)  
>  ST: ((^_^))  
> 

Giving up on that particular search, Inks grinned and finally pointed Maji to the section of the market that catered to the more exotic foodstuffs. Goat, as Carsa suggested, was not particularly exotic, but Maji had not tried it yet. Inks herself was more interested in specialty markets, and upon finding a likely few sellers, she made some inquiries. "Does anyone sell fish in Gem?"

Meanwhile, Maji was _captivated_ by cages of soon-to-be-terrified chickens and pheasant, the latter of which were carefully raised and imported at great cost. Maji would've needed almost a dozen if not more for a single meal.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Insightful Buyer on Fish in Gem; how valuable is it in Gem? Also if Inks wanted to buy it, what external penalties would apply to the roll? Externals subtract successes.)  
> 

"Yes, yes, fish!" the shop-owner said, eager to impress the gorgeous woman. He rummaged in a bag for a moment and came out with one, slapping it down on the counter.

Inks looked at the thing in front of her. It was many things. It was brown. It was scaled. It was bone-dry. It was two feet long, mandibled and had two rows of what looked like scoop-footed centipede legs running along its body.

What it definitely was _not_ was a fish.

"Straight from the Flowing Dune!" the man added, when Inks looked less than enthusiastic about his offering. "No water; it doesn't rot; good meat on it!"

Ah, yes. The Flowing Dune Sea. She'd crossed that last year, on the way down from the coast - a region of the desert where the sand acted like water, and a yeddim-caravan that walked out onto what seemed to be a dune like any other would vanish beneath the surface, never to be seen again. There were sandport cities built around its shore, but Inks hadn't realized that things _lived_ in it.

Then again, maybe it wasn't so surprising that people so far from the sea had slightly warped ideas about what a "fish" was.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((For the kind of fish Inks is used to - the kind that swims in water and isn't a freaky armoured centipede-eel thing adapted for swimming through sand that has almost no liquid in its body - it would be high Res 3 for the heavily-salted stuff and most people born and raised in Gem won't really know what she's talking about when she says she wants it. If she wanted to buy it fresh, she's looking at... probably 4-5 dot penalties on getting it there; you'd need one of the _best_ merchants in the business to feasibly pull it off.))  
>  Inks: (Now, here's the solar bullshit part. Inks drops that penalty right now, to just -2 successes)  
>  ST: ((There may also be some super-expensive ones raised in ponds and oasises that are delicacies, but they face similar issues vis-a-vis "costing a fuckload of a lot".))  
> 

Inks stared at it, blinking once. "While not what I meant, I'll take one." Never let it be said that Inks was against trying new things. "I was thinking more the kind of fish you get from rivers, lakes, oceans."

>   
>  Inks: (I am laughing, btw, this was a great gag)  
>  ST: ((: 3))  
> 

He frowned, not seeming to know what she was talking about. A quick conference with two of his fellow vendors further into the shop produced a spindly veiled woman fresh from gutting a chicken. Maji nosed towards her hands, and she stepped smartly back behind a counter.

"If it's fish you want, you're in the wrong place," she told Inks. "The kind you're looking for - the water kind, yes? They're delicacies. Raised in the ponds, sold only to the wealthy. We don't stock them here - nowhere in the Bazaar will; you'd have to go to the water-farms." She paused, thinking.

"You might find some lungfish," she conceded after a moment. "But they're hard to find. Slippery little buggers during the wet season, and when it's dry they bury themselves and it's a rare dog that has a good enough nose to dig them out. We don't stock them. Sorry to disappoint, your worship."

Inks nodded. "Not worship, but thanks. If I could supply fish, would you be interested in helping sell them?" 

The woman hissed in doubt and gave her a third-over (the once-over and second glance having come within seconds of seeing her). This time, something seemed to click. "You mean to start a water-farm, milady? Breed 'em? You'll have your work cut out for you." 

"Well, either a water farm, or importing them on the cheap. I have some ideas." She grinned. "Now to business-" She made a nod to Maji and how much he ate in one meal- "I'll take that much in chicken, if you have it."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I think we can conclude on this scene, as the actual buying of chicken is perfunctory. Next step I think is... off camera go back to the townhouse, properly brief the slaves on their new circumstances (employees), and entrust them to Carsa for the moment. After that, write a note to the Despot for a meeting.)  
>  (This is in addition to anything you want to have happen)  
>  ST: ((Indeed. Nothing for me to introduce, so stunt as you will on What Inks Does Next.))  
> 

* * *

After securing Maji's lunchtime treat, Inks returned to her townhouse and introduced her senior house staff to her newest acquisition-employees. Once in the safety of her courtyard, she very clearly told the slaves that she was freeing them and immediately hiring them. She interviewed them all briefly, getting a feel for their skills, though she was fairly certain most of them were only allowed to be pretty. In some ways that was better- less to unlearn. Once she had them all secured, Inks put Carsa in charge of them, entrusting her majordomo to delegate as needed- "Keep them inside for now though, until everything has settled down." She added. 

To her guards, she made a point of giving them a bonus for their silence and discretion with regards to her hiring practices, promising to match any bribes they received if they brought them to her instead of pocketing it then and there. It was a simple trick to encourage loyalty, and would give her leads on potential weaknesses. 

Lastly, she penned a note to the Despot's court, asking for an audience at the ruler's convenience. 

The reply, when it arrived by runner, invited her to attend the Despot two days hence at his pleasure. 

Entrusting her townhouse to Maji and her guards, Inks made her way to the Despot's grand palace at the time and day of his choosing. Clad in gauzy white silks that bared one leg more than the other, along with her arms and back, she wore a traveler's cloak against the sun until entering the actual palace grounds. Her jewelery was simple, though she had kept a pair of okidaci-forged sapphires for her own personal use (and paid the appropriate tax on them) as earrings. 

Once present, she waited with all due respect, until the Despot invited her in. 

She was left waiting for a while - longer, in fact, that she had been left alone on her first visit. _Unlike_ her first visit, she was given company - a musician and storyteller in her waiting room, both freed slaves, and three visits over the course of her wait from a tall, robed and veiled woman who apologized for the delay.

When Inks finally got to see the Despot, it wasn't in his throne room but rather a smaller dining room - still lit by glowstones and richly decorated with tapestries and wall-hangings, but absent of any musicians or dancing girls. Despite the rich array of food in front of him, Rankar was leaning on the table and barely picking at his meal.

Noticing her coming in, he gave her an appreciative twice-over, but even that seemed half-hearted. He gestured tiredly for Inks to sit down and help herself to the food, abandoning his own in favour of water and a jug of wine. 

"At the risk of being blunt, is something the matter?" Inks did not take to the food immediately, but the look on her face was undisguised approval and hopefully a compliment to the Despot and his palace kitchen. 

He sighed. "Many things are the matter, madam Inks. A tunnel collapse in the deep mines, which may have been natural causes or the work of the Dead. An impending lordmeet among the mountain tribes, in which my spies tell me it is likely they will raise the price of food again. Various affairs not meant for your ears. And a representative from House Iblan who has spent the past hour haranguing me but who would be too expensive to have killed. Yet." He added the last more out of habit than any apparent plans, though the spite in the word left little doubt that he wanted to.

Nodding at a cut of meat, he twitched his fingers at a servant, who began cutting it up for him. "And now you. If you have bad news for me, please do me the courtesy of coming back with it tomorrow, or perhaps next week." 

"Ahh" Inks nodded. "Well, so far I would like to say I have good news?" She offered. "Hepatizon is being produced at an acceptable rate and quality, and I have solved a few teething problems." She tried not to grin at the impromptu in-joke. "The main purpose of my meeting was to discuss our relationship. You know that I am sorcerer, very well informed in fact." She paused for a moment. "Let me guess, you watch for sales of any spell or book that instructs in the ways of Water From Stone? I was surprised how quickly you dispatched a note to that effect."

"Anyway- I have since learned that spell, and I have proven to the citizens that while I do summon demons, I can also banish them. I've yet to explore much in defense against the dead, but I've been planning on retaking El-Galabi at some point."

She hummed thoughtfully, idly twisting away stems from syrup-coated cherries. "Someday I will learn how to tie knots with the stems- I am an architect by trade, in good standing with House Bhalasus, I could extend my consultancy to your mines, creating safer working conditions."

Rankar closed his eyes for a moment and murmured something to the servant cutting his meat. She hurried off, and returned a few moments later with a lacquered box. The pipe inside was exceptional work - some sort of stone, Inks thought, and the vivid green on the inside of the bowl looked a lot like dreamstone.

The Despot took his time packing it with glittering dust from the velvet bag it came with, lit it, and took several deep puffs. The smoke rings were translucent, and sunk to the floor instead of rising. But the effect on the Despot was remarkable. He sat up straighter, the bags under his eyes diminished and he gained an animation to his body language where before there had only been exhaustion.

"Yes," he said, and cleared his throat. There was a strange tone to it - not a change in pitch like some drugs could cause, but a faint reverberation. "Yes, sorcerers who can summon water are valuable - almost priceless. You are saying you have learnt to do this? I will give you a position, if you desire it, as an Imperial Sorcerer. Banishment of demons would also be among your duties - Celi does many things for me, but she struggles with banishment in a way you will not." He nodded to the tall, robed figure who'd visited Inks during her wait.

"The mines are the province of Iblan Asenya," he continued, standing and starting to pace. "I can arrange for you to meet her if you wish, but she is greatly experienced as a geomancer - she is an Exalt of the Dragon's blood; an Earth Aspect who has held authority over the undermines since before my reign. El-Galabi, though..."

He took another puff on the pipe and drew his sword, moving through a few lazy cuts at the air as he thought. "El-Galabi. Have you been to see it? You left the city with a ranger for... yes, that would be long enough to get there and back. What was your impression?"

"That it's a mess, but a fixable one." Inks answered. "I'm not going to throw men and material at it until I have a better idea of what to do- for right now it's not going anywhere." 

"The backing of the Despot would help in securing it, but I admit I wanted it largely for myself." She shrugged, disarmingly. "Not that I would close it as a market. We're all here to get rich, and I'm an investor, not a hoarding oligarch."  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 10 (Per+Med on the drugs); Inks rolled [8, 2, 10, 10, 9, 9, 2, 7, 5, 3] for a compiled value of 8.  
> 

That drug, Inks thought. It was definitely thaumaturgic - nothing mundane could have such a dramatic effect so quickly. From the scent, there was cocaine in it, and from the glittering appearance and the strange colourless smoke... perhaps something of the Wyld? In a safe form, of course, or he wouldn't be using it. The pipe was definitely part of it, and she doubted it would be safe to imbibe in any other way.

Drugs like that didn't come without side effects, in Inks' experience. Either this stuff would be brutally addictive, or Rankar was going to pay for this sudden energy later. Which was likely why he hadn't used it for the exhaustion until she'd dumped several new important matters at his feet.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Probably not Celestial Cocaine, but he'd have the cash for it...)  
> 

"Is there a contract or agreement we must make for me to become an Imperial Sorcerer?" Inks considered the drug's symptoms and hid her frown.

He nodded absently, and reluctantly ceded the pipe to the robed woman - Celi - as he passed her. "A simple enough matter. I will have it announced tomorrow, and you will be issued with a seal - wear it, and all will know you have my favour and act under my mantle. I will require you to produce water for the city, and certain other services."

Apparently he was feeling a _lot_ better, because his eyes automatically went to the slit in Inks' dress and the creamy expanse of thigh it revealed at that. It took a moment or two for him to walk back the implication. "... banishing of any demons, defense of the city in the case of an attack. Perhaps some fortification - there are old plans that demand a sorcerer who can shape the earth as you can, but it has been some time since Gem has held a sorcerer able to carry them out."

"El-Galabi, though... it was built on a site of power, yes? A demesne of the sun. Could such a thing be restored? The holy man who founded it; he intended to begin farms there - could that still be done? No," he shook the question off with a sharp jerk of his head, "no matter, you have no immediate plans. Draw up your observations of the place and your intentions for it, if you would - I may back your efforts there if they will benefit Gem."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks notes that the drug is making him a bit manic - probably the cocaine in it.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. It's worth noting that Inks's skin cannot be creamy, because the tattoo has too much vivid color)  
>  ST: ((Crap, forgot that detail.))  
> 

Inks: "Very well." She raised a glass of wine, grinning. "To wealth and prosperity?"

ST: "To wealth," he toasts, returning to his wine and meal.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (It's okay! Honestly the tattoo hasn't come up that much, but gotta get into that habit)  
>  ST: ((Yup yup yup. Okay, wanna hit up the Sun Market this session, or leave it there?))  
>  Inks: (I could, but I was actually interested in trying to do a sorcerous working for her personal bath/spring in the townhouse, because Inks is totally the kind of gal who'd have a hot-cold-magic spring in the middle of the burning desert)  
>  Inks: (is that out of scope?)  
>  ST: ((That's gonna be a seasonal Project based on adapting the principles of Water from Stone, and probably need some consulting with the Despot about what happens to the water when you're done with it.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. Hmm... As far as what I as a player want, the baths should have some objective/mechanical boon or perk, like reduced maintenance, comfort, it should remove fatigue penalties at least. Like, I'm assuming this will create a sorcerous spring/water source, which is a fantastic, downright legendary thing in context of Gem. Like, separating it out from being a 'bath', creating any sort of water supply that endures over time would deform the setting in a fun way)  
>  Inks: (What I'm thinking, is that the working requires some kind of intake of resources to justify its production, (which also lets you turn it off if you can't afford to run it?), but as long as you can satisfy it, it works.)  
>  ST: ((We'll talk it over.))  
>  Inks: (I don't think I can afford to make something like a jade obelisk that creates blessed water ex nihlo... Though now that I think about it, I want to invoke Uvanavu and Venus in terms of 'making best bath ever', the former because God of Health, the latter because Venus...)  
>  Inks: (Alright!  
> 

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: Alright, so i guess then we'll talk it over the week then. I had a lot of fun Aleph, thank you for running.  
>  Inks: any thoughts?  
>  Inks: and xp?  
>  ST: 5xp + 1mxp  
>  ST: Was fun!  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  Inks: okay I really should get HAM soon  
>  Inks: I have enough people that training them would be worthwhile  
> 


	11. Session 11: Blood of the Gods

# Session 11: Blood of the Gods

Inks leaves the Despot's palace with Rankar's seal on a chain around her neck. It's cast in gold, inset with diamonds and what close inspection reveals to be tiny fragments of yasal, and the soft white light of a glowstone emanates from its centre. The effect of the whole manages to come off as tastefully opulent rather than gaudy. 

When she arrived at her home, Inks let out a pleased, gusty sigh, before pulling the chain off her neck and giving it a proper examination- was it thaumiturgical, sorcerous? Carsa, having been one of the Despot's... well, slaves, recognized it for what it was when Inks brought it to rudimentary dining table- she hadn't had a chance to fully furnish her home yet, after all.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Occult on necklace, +2 stunt?)  
>  ST: ((1 die))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +1; Inks rolled [3, 8, 6, 9, 4, 2, 5, 4, 1, 6] for a compiled value of 3.  
> 

It wasn't sorcerous; that much was for sure. But there was something incomplete about it; a sense of order and purpose to the object's least god that was unusual in small objects - even ones as expensive and impressive as this. Inks rather suspected that the abnormal amount of initiative the tiny presence showed was a result of more frequent activity - this spirit did more than just file reports. Perhaps it would be recognised by larger workings - making the seal a sort of key that would be very difficult to duplicate.

>   
>  ST: ((I'm not saying it's an RFID tag))  
>  ST: ((But it's probably a Thaum RFID tag))  
> 

Inks smiled. "Interesting."

She looked around then at the central courtyard of her townhouse, tossing a more earnest, friendly smile Carsa's way as she took in the space. Stone walls- not bare but lacking in much more than architectural detailing. And there was a space she'd set aside... "Right, I should put in those Baths soon."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I believe that Inks would already know that she needs Black Jade as her working-anchor, hence the trivial action to find it, so we can just segue into the 'She goes to Sun Market' sequence, unless you think I have a different challenge ahead of me?")  
>  ST: ((Note that by Trivial Action, I don't mean offscreen - I mean an on screen Thing to get enough that doesn't last a whole season. She's looking at a fair amount of jade - Res 5 amounts, so _getting_ it isn't trivial, it's just that the time investment relative to three months of research is.))  
>  ST: ((But the Sun Market _is_ a fairly good place to go if you need a lot of jade for something and want to know where you might lay your hands on that much.))  
>  Inks: (I acknowledge that it is on screen, yes, but it's the difference between having to make a roll to know you need something, and knowing you need it.)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, she'll know that black jade and Water From Stone is an obvious place to start.))  
>  Inks: (I'm used to... pre-requisite actions? Gotta roll A before you roll B, instead of streamlining.)  
> 

* * *

Having decided her course of action, she checked her schedule with Carsa before giving her house steward a quick but happy hug and sauntered off upstairs, Maji padding up alongside the wide steps. The great tiger curled up in his section of the master bedroom, eager to dream big-cat-dreams while Inks fell into her own admittedly temporary bed. Tomorrow, she'd look for black jade, and according to everything she knew, the Sun Market was the place to go.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Investigation to find where the Sun Market is set up that day))  
>  Inks: (...uh, spending a WP definitely on that one. That's 3 dice before excellencies. Any stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((If you want to stunt looking for it.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> 

It was wrong to say that she was _immune_ to heat- far from it. Inks knew in some distant academic sense that she could harden her skin against the harsh light of the sun, against fire and blade, but she did not yet know how. For that reason, she kept to the shade and wore a gauzy hood and shawl that trapped the relatively cooler air closer to her body.

So prepared, she wandered the daylit surface streets of Gem, Maji's own bronze body polished gleaming and bright. A few cautious words with those huddled under awnings and in shadowed doorways led her on a winding journey across road and through alley, hopefully to her goal.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: !ex 5 +2; Inks rolled [8, 10, 9, 2, 7] for a compiled value of 7.  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  Inks: (wits 2 + invest 1 +2 stunt +1 excellency success +1 WP success)  
>  ST: ((Ah. Cool.))  
> 

Inks struck lucky. Today, it seemed, the Sun Market had set up at the very end of Sixth Scorpion, and it was after only about an hour of following frustratingly vague directions that she stumbled across it.

She was willing to hazard a guess that this location got reused relatively frequently, because they were only a hop, a skip and a stone's throw away from the steep, narrow, high-cut steps that plunged down through a tunnel cut through the crater wall that emerged hundreds of metres below, on the slopes of the mountain. The steps were bordered by flat stone grooves, and a huge pulley set a little way back from the mouth of the stairwell allowed for heavy baggage to be hauled all the way up the flight by rope or cable. 

One group was doing exactly that as Inks arrived; the dark-skinned men on the pulley shirtless save for the red sashes around their arms. Intricate orange-red tattoos zigzagged across their bodies - or were those tattoos? They looked strange; raised and inflamed. Most of the market, though, was set up already and in business. There was no clear space; no large open plaza that the stalls occupied - instead, they loitered along the street, skulked in alleyways and even planted themselves firmly in front of buildings. 

Regardless of location, every stall was heavily shaded with double-daubed cloth; bright white on the inside and black within. The effect was to throw the insides of the stalls into shadow almost as stark and shocking as those in El Galabi. The stall-owners and the few shoppers meandering between stalls or engaged in haggling universally wore clothing that matched the style of the shops - wide-brimmed hats with veils hanging from the edge, turbans and polished metal masks, or full-face burqas that left only a mesh screen for them to see through. 

From some of the sidelong glances Inks was getting; while her hood and shawl might technically meet the level of anonymity that seemed customary here, the panting bronze-furred tiger at her side did not. Maji grunted disinterestedly at the staring and sauntered over to the nearest patch of deep shade; muscling a cart out of the way and flopping down with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

Inks shook her head with a fond smile, before peering more closely into the shadows and the merchants within. "Ladies, gentlemen. I'm looking for some specific materials, perhaps we could make a deal?"

There were, it surmounted, actually quite a lot of exotic materials on offer. One stall held a sealed box of black Chiaroscuro glass. Another sported a collection of heavily eroded tablets made from some material of the High First Age, which the veiled and hatted seller claimed to bear ancient lore from a ruin he'd found to the south. A large table run by two men in iron facemasks quite vocally advertised golden amulets against the Dead, and a tent situated some way away from its heavily insulated crates offered a small fortune in carved-up furnace rhino carcasses, including an intact heart that would remain searing hot for years.

There was a regrettable lack of giant black jade pillars, at least among the stalls Inks could see. 

Inks whistled, throughly impressed and not bothering to hide it. She took a moment to examine the eroded tablets, curious as to their quality and the veracity of the seller's claims.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Frugal Merchant Method- what is their quality and value? Quality can be like 'shoddy vs good workmanship', but it won't tell Inks what they do)  
>  ST: ((Quality is _exceptional_ workmanship that's been eroded, battered and degraded down to shoddy-and-almost-illegible-junk. No way to judge the value of whatever lore is on them, but the raw value of the material itself would probably be Res 3 for one of them and Res 4 for the lot, if you could find some way of working the stuff.))  
>  Inks: (My next question is- viable target for Crack-Mending Technique?)  
>  ST: ((... ooo, interesting idea. Yes, probably. Though they probably are translatable without; it'd just be a pain.))  
>  Inks: (It'd be either Crack-Mending, or Discerning Savant's Eye, the latter charm is stupid-useful, but I'd need either Ling 5 or 3 for it.)  
>  ST: ((5))  
>  ST: ((Unless that got errata'd))  
> 

Inks considered the tablets then, and evaluated the seller- their clothing made it difficult to determine expression, voice, even gender, but she was prepared. "I'll take the lot, though their condition only makes them worth the material they're made on- _if_ you can find the right tools to work them."

>   
>  Inks: (Haggling stunt, is dealer honest or not honest?)  
>  ST: ((Honest.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, +1 autosux on the roll, cha+pres?)  
>  ST: ((Go for it.))  
>  Inks: (for clarity, if I succeed, I get the tablets cheaper- that's my goal/intention. +2 stunt?)  
>  Inks: (I really need to use Sexy Stunner Style more)  
>  ST: ((Go for it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled [5, 7, 6, 8, 1, 9] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

The man tried to make a protest about the value of the ancient lore that could be found on his merchandise, but Inks was a merciless cross-examiner who knew the value of the materials. A few pointed comments had him reluctantly admitting that while he _had_ found the things in a southern ruin, he couldn't actually read the script himself and thus couldn't reasonably put a price on what it might say. Dejectedly, he accepted a sum of a few hundred dinars - a princely sum to be sure, but nothing like the talent or more of silver he had hoped for.

>   
>  ST: ((Res 3 purchase made - he botched, lol.))  
>  Inks: (Nice.)  
>  ST: ((roll Per+Awa for Maji.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; Inks rolled [5, 1, 2, 6, 8, 2] for a compiled value of 1.  
>  ST: The sound of rattling dice comes from ST's direction.  
>  ST: ((... wow.))  
> 

Inks was just finishing up the transaction - apparently there was a lot of complexity in arranging for the kind of large payments that need bank slips when doing business in an anonymous market - when a commotion arose. Normally that would only be surprising in that it was happening on the surface in the baking heat of the sun. However, Inks couldn't help but notice that it was coming from the direction Maji had slumped down in.

ST: !reveal 1; ST rolled [3, 8, 10, 7] for a compiled value of 4.

"Well that's not a good sign..." Inks exhaled softly and finished the transaction with a decisive flourish, before turning on one sandaled foot towards the not-so-little alcove Maji had claimed as his own. She rounded a crate full of crystal-skinned, wyld pomegranates, peering into the darkness with a frown. "What's going on here?" 

Maji looked up with an expression of regal innocence, marred only slightly by the tiny thrashing cloaked figure in his jaws. After the initial heart attack had died down, Inks realized that the toddler-sized figure was _not_ bleeding, and that Maji appeared to be holding it by the scruff of the neck. It seemed to be attempting to either pull his whiskers or punch him in the jaw, but was being let down by the way that its arms were too short and its niqab had slipped down over its eyes.

Going by the high-pitched sounds of indignation, it did not seem very happy about this state of affairs. 

"Alright that's enough." She hunkered down to pull the offender from Maji's grip, sinking her fingers into the ruff of fur around his neck and giving the tiger a good scratch for his troubles. "Now who or what are you?" She wondered aloud. 

Freed from captivity, Maji's prisoner tugged at its niqab for several increasingly frustrated moments before letting out an adorable growl and pulling the whole thing off. Bronze-red ringlets spilled out, atop the coppery-skinned, chubby-cheeked face of a little girl. Inks judged her to be perhaps three - maybe four, if she was short for her age.

A pair of dark red tiger ears stood out among the uncontrollable curls, several dozen whiskers fanning out from her cheeks twitched irritably, and she bared two rows of sharp fangs at Inks with a hiss.

It was somewhat less than intimidating. 

Inks blinked. "You're a tiger girl." She blinked again, twice more. "Gods. You are an adorable little tiger girl. What are you doing in Sun Market?" 

" _You're_ in _trouble!_ " returned the little girl in accented Firetongue. "My great-granddaddy's a _god_ , you know! When he finds out you picked me up and shook me he'll rain fire on you! And gobble you up and throw you out in the deep desert and... and..."

The wagging finger got close enough to dislodge Inks' hood, and it was the little girl's turn to blink in surprise.

"... you're really pretty," she said, threats apparently forgotten in the time it took to glance at Maji and back. "Who are you? And why does he smell like Papi?" 

Inks looked at Maji, then back at the little girl. Then back at Maji. "...Because Maji's the grandson of a southern war god?" She looked back at her tiger-friend- the actual tiger one. "It is 'Grandfather', right? Not Great Grandfather or Father?" 

Maji dipped his head in a regal nod, and extended his claws enough to hook the back of the little girl's robes and drag her back from trying to tug Ink's shawl off. He was glared at for his trouble, before the girl returned her attention to Inks.

"Are _you_ a godsdaughter too, then?" she demanded. "You're super pretty, you know." This last was added in confidential tones, as if in case Inks wasn't aware. 

Inks: "Ah... No. I'm just really lucky?" She thought about it for a moment, and beauty _did_ run in her mother's side of the family- maybe she did have blood of the gods, but maybe not. "It's alright Maji- I can handle this." She leaned down, getting more on eye-level with the girl and spreading her arms wide enough to let the child decide for herself. 

"What's your name? You can call me Inks." Her eyes slid to the artful spread of color and designs on her arms, how wind-painted snowcapped mountains were painted across her wrists, wrapped with clouds and framed in bands of pinks, greens and golds. 

The girl's eyes went wide, and she immediately pushed close, tracing soft fingers across the patterns in entranced wonder. "M'Pesala," she mumbled, then jerked in surprise. "Oh! Oh oh oh! You know what?" She jumped up and down, too excited to make her point while stationary.

"I bet your friend's war god granddaddy and my _great_ -granddaddy are the _same god!_ That's why he smells like Papi! Come on come on come on!" Grabbing a wrist, she started tugging Inks out of the alcove, then slowed to a halt as she got distracted following the bands of colour around Inks' arms. 

"Okay, okay!" Inks laughed, bright and clear and largely in defiance of the dour, dare she say clandestine attitude of the Sun Market. She was a Solar though- Sun was _her_ thing thank you very much. "I'd like to meet your 'Papi'. Lead the way!" 

Pesala got halfway out of the alcove again before remembering that she had to wear the "stupid niqab that always slips down on me and Papi says I'll 'grow into it' but actually I think he's just bad at putting it on my hair". Once it was secured, she led Inks on a meandering route that seemed suspiciously circuitous in how it contrived to pass every stall of shiny objects between points A and B - some of them more than once - before beelining for a set of boards laid out on the floor in a building that was missing a front wall and a ceiling. 

She was scooped up before they got close enough to see much about what was on them by an agitated adult figure in a dark red niqab similar to her own, who gave her a short but pointed scolding in some dialect of Firetongue that Inks only caught one word in three of. There was definitely a "meant to stay behind the boards" in there, though, as well as a "Papi was haggling".

Then the adult turned to greet his daughters' rescuers, and jerked back in surprise. Apparently he hadn't noticed Maji in his worry over his daughter. The strip of his face Inks can see through the opening in the burqa is furred, rather than copper-skinned like his daughter, and his eyes are the solid amber of a tiger's where Pesala has only gold pupils. 

"A thousand thanks," he said in a soft, rough voice after recovering his composure. "I turned around and she was gone. I hope she did not trouble you?" 

Inks stepped into the shade and pulled her hood away, smiling. "Heya." She held up two fingers close together. "Teensy bit, nothing to scold her for." Her other hand fell on Maji's brow for idle scratches. "I'm surprised to have met her, but color me interested, for obvious reasons."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Heh. Charisma+Presence for Maji?))  
>  ST: The sound of rattling dice comes from ST's direction. To reveal, ST must type in the focus channel '!reveal 2'  
>  Inks: !ex 5; Inks rolled [2, 10, 8, 1, 6] for a compiled value of 3.  
>  ST rolled [3, 8, 10, 7] for a compiled value of 4.  
>  ST rolled [9, 4, 9, 6] for a compiled value of 2.  
>  ST: better  
> 

He and Maji sized each other up for a long moment. Maji gave a rumbling chuff. The man replied with a slow nod - or perhaps a shallow bow. Maji gave another chuff, this time approving, and their communication seemed to conclude on that.

"Please," said the man, "come this way. I am Ajjim; my daughter Pesala you have met. I am a grandchild of Akhanammu - is your companion one of his sons?" 

He gestured them into the shade of the half-building, and Inks raised an eyebrow. The boards set out neatly in front of the awning were covered in... _bits_ was the best word; body parts dried out by the sun. Most looked demonic. There was an agata-wing, a collection of blood ape paws, that bleached carapace was... perhaps some part of an unfortunate tomescu? There were boxes that presumably contained more parts; either protected from the sun or just less impressive to display, and a number of scrolls and books were stacked neatly in the shade of the awning.

"Sit, please," Ajjim said, passing over a slightly sandy cushion. He settled down crosslegged next to the scrolls, pulling a struggling Pesala onto his lap. 

Inks smiled, bemused at the interplay and more than a little interested at the demon parts. "Grandson, according to Maji. Akhanammu? I admit I have not heard of this god, but I'm not from the South."

"He's a war god!" Pesala offered eagerly. "And he has a tiger head like Papi's and when he's angry he can make it rain fire and mmmph mm mmmb!"

Ajjim waited until the muffled noises stopped before taking his hand away. "I have never met my forebear - neither did my mother, by her account - but Pesala does enjoy the stories," he sighed. "He is indeed a war god - the tiger-headed shogun of fire used in warfare. He smiles on the Arbani family who are rooted in this city, and no small number of his descendants are scattered around the southern Firepeaks."

A faint strain of humour entered his tone. "I'm sure from his nodding that your companion knows this, but I suppose it would be difficult for him to tell you of it. Fortunate, then, that we met. May I ask your names?" 

"Well this is Maji-" Inks pointed at the noble, regal tiger. "And I go by Inks."

"A pleasure." Ajjim gave a half bow from his seat, which afforded Pesala the opportunity to slip free. Dodging the grab he made for her, she bounced over to sit beside Maji and whisper to him.

After a moment spent checking that she wasn't going to do anything else inadvisable, Ajjim shrugged and left her to it. "My wares," he said, gesturing at the boards. "Many creatures stray into the deep desert and die from the sun. I gather what is left behind and bring it here for sale."

He leaned over to point at the scrolls. "And I am able to do that because of my primary trade, which is the mapping of the desert. This stall is the best source of knowledge on trails through that place that exists in Gem. If you wish to send an expedition out there yourself; trust my maps over tribal guides every time."

"Huh." She nodded. "I'm surprised demons die out there- is it really that hostile?"

Ajjim pointed straight upwards. "The sun is not kind to creatures of Hell," he said simply. "Those who do not bury themselves during the day soon perish. But even were that not the case, the desert is full of horrors. There are worse things out there than the lesser monsters of Hell; of that you can be sure." 

"Fair enough." She hummed thoughtfully. "Silly question- do you know of anyone in the sun market or dare I suggest- the desert, where I could find Black Jade?" 

His tufted eyebrows rose, but he made no comment on her desire. "In the market... them, perhaps." He pointed towards the tent selling furnace rhino carcasses. "Furnace rhinos horns often have jade in them, I hear. In the desert... well, there are the Pillars of Anam. Pure black jade in vast quantities, in theory." He hums thoughtfully. "And it's possible that there might be deposits in any of the aquifers I know of. The trouble there being; most of them are in the hands of water farmers."

"Riiight." She leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other as she contemplated. "Okay, so I think my best bet is the market. Any advice on who to buy from?" 

Ajjim cocks his head. "If it's fear of the desert that makes you say so, the horrors stay largely in the deeps. This side of the Scar, and a little ways beyond, it's safe - as long as you know where you're going."  
  


>   
>  ST: The sound of rattling dice comes from ST's direction. To reveal, ST must type in the focus channel '!reveal 3'  
>  ST: !reveal 3; ST rolled [5, 6, 6, 9, 5, 1] for a compiled value of 1.  
>  ST: ((Ajjim... does not do very well on his roll to convince Inks to consider buying maps from his stall instead of buying furnace rhino horn from someone else. Alas. He must level up his merchanting skill.))  
> 

"Nah, it's mostly just time? I want to get going sooner rather than later." She paused for a moment. "...drat, I don't think any of my books teach Stormwind Rider either."

She glanced at Maji and Pesala. "Do you have any other children?" 

Ajjim accepted her denial in good grace. "Pesala is my only child," he said. "As I was my mother's - our forebear's blood runs thin in our veins, unlike your friend. Pesala's children will likely be little more than human, unless she weds another of his line. You would be best served with the rhino horn gathered directly from the Scar - those sellers; in the tent. I think the horns are tinted according to whatever material is in them - they're far from pure, though. You may need more than they have to sell." 

Inks nodded, and looked around the small enclosed space, shrouded in shadow and stranger things. She wondered then, if this was his home or place of business...  
  


>   
>  Inks:(Per+Invest)  
>  Inks: !ex 6; Inks rolled [2, 7, 7, 2, 6, 10] for a compiled value of 4.  
>  ST: ((Just a place of business - the Sun Market sprawls around and some of the stalls have set up inside abandoned or run-down buildings to take advantage of the shade. Presumably Ajjim got one of the good spots.))  
> 

Nodding to herself, Inks smiled. "I don't forget people who treat me well." She stood up with a graceful move, pleased. "Come to my townhouse in a few days, I'd like to make you and your daughter dinner."

Ajjim seemed hesitant for a moment, glancing at Pesala. "Your townhouse... where is it, exactly?"

"Eighth Scorpion, a few streets down from the main leg." She elaborated with more specific landmarks. 

He relaxed. "Then of course. I would be honoured to attend."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (He was afraid it was underground, huh?)  
>  ST: (Or in the posher areas of the city which might not react well to what look like beastmen.)  
> 

Inks: "Excellent!" She smiled brighter, before moving over to nudge Maji to his feet. Pesala shot bolt upright as well, disappointed and forlorn. "Time to go, Maji."

Maji rolled to his feet with somewhat ill grace - apparently Pesala had been flattering his ego by listing the various feats of might she imagined him capable of - and took up his station at her side. The pads of his feet left little patches of perspiration on the paved stone street, which faded in seconds under the bonfire of the sun.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((I presume you're heading to the furnace rhino stall?))  
>  Inks: ((Yeah, I'd like to get the jade and then we can queue up the downtime actions, baring failure to buy/get enough.))  
>  ST: ((Okay. Furnace rhino horn generally only contains trace amounts of magical material, so you're looking for an exceptionally high success and probably significant resource expenditure on this. You're aiming for Res 5 of black jade, and the horns will need refining down since they're not pure.))  
>  Inks: (Ahh, but I have the great equalizer: Insightful Buyer Technique, on invocation, I negate market penalties for scarcity and similar. So while this is still very challenging, it becomes Surmountable)  
>  Inks: (So on your end, you should look at it as Difficulty + External Penalties, the latter of which my charm negates)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  Inks: (Stunting)  
> 

Having been given a lead, Inks made her way back to the market stalls-having moved around a bit since her conversation with Ajjim. Eventually though she found the recommended seller. Stepping into the shadows and to an extent, anonimity from the street, Inks pulled her hood and cloak back, revealing a long, art-clad leg. "Hello ladies and gentlemen, I've heard good things."

>   
>  Inks: (I am attempting to instill a minor intimacy of lust in the group/witnesses, which can then be used with Sexy Stunner Style)  
>  ST: ((Roll App+Pres, and also Per+Awa.))  
>  ST: ((Former for wowing them, latter for noticing some other nearby stalls.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 "App 5 Pres 2 +3 Style, +2 stunt"; Inks rolled [4, 1, 7, 3, 1, 7, 3, 4, 5, 10, 3, 2] for a compiled value of 4.  
>  ST: ((Definitely got that minor lust tie placed.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7 "Per 5 Awa2"; Inks rolled [10, 5, 8, 7, 3, 5, 8] for a compiled value of 5.  
>  ST: ((I would sigh mournfully about the fact that this is meant to be an anonymous market, but that ship sort of sailed when she brought the GIANT TIGER. : P))  
>  Inks: (Well as long as she's not outing the people who are selling, that's fine with her)  
> 

Inks could practically hear the three gloved and masked figures drooling. They certainly looked very eager to do business with her. But her new vantage point afforded her a new view - and apparently, the part of the Sun Market that sold dead things was between the parts that handled inanimate materials... and live stock.

>   
>  ST: ((Remind me, what languages does Inks speak?))  
>  Inks: (Riverspeak and likely Old Realm as a scholarly language)  
> 

Some way further along the street, a dark green young woman with flame-red hair sat staring dully into space, wrapped in layers of chain. Opposite her, a snakeman lay stretched out behind a collection of baskets full of large eggs that two sellers were hawking. A golden lantern just a few stalls away contained a lovely palm-sized butterfly made of black-spotted flame which fluttered and beat its wings against the bars in vain. Inks could hear it from where she stood; begging passers-by in broken Old Realm to be set free.

>   
>  ST: ((And that _is_ a Compassion check.))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled [3, 9, 5] for a compiled value of 1.  
>  ST: ((Suppress or act.))  
> 

Inks sighed. "Gentlemen, ladies- I will hopefully be back shortly." With that, she stepped back out into the sunlight and towards the disenfranchised. She wasn't particularly worried about _what_ they were, so much as how they were being treated. Maji padded up behind her, his own distaste plain clear on his face.

  
  


>   
> (Act, of course!)   
> 

  
  


She recognized the nearest, certainly. 'Nanda had complained at length about fire butterflies, and how their hatred for anything prettier than them led to nonsensically bitter feuds. Gold was apparently one of their greatest hates, which probably had something to do with how the lantern was keeping it trapped. 

The woman was trickier - perhaps a wood elemental, or maybe just a spirit-blooded human. The chains binding her looked like spirit-shackles, but the way she was staring so blankly looked distressingly like some of the dream-eaten slaves she'd seen traded by the Guild back home. 

Inks sighed harder. "Alright, so normally I'd be more patient about this sort of thing, but time is money for all of us." She addressed the sellers (slavers), pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'll take these 'exotic creatures' off your hands for a fair price, and hopefully I won't see you selling people again in the immediate or distant future." 

She paused for a moment, shaking her head. "I could make some thinly veiled threat of force, but I don't know your faces and I don't care to. Let's just skip that part- I don't want to start a knock down drag out fight here and now- I have business to take care of." 

The seller behind the fire butterfly scoffed and named a price. Maji's warning growl immediately jumped two pitches and Inks had to double-check to make sure she'd heard it right. That number was _absurd_. It would probably tax a noble house's coffers; let alone hers.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (thinking)  
>  Inks: (This isn't a Problem I can logic my way out of, amusingly. I can't meet these prices, or supernaturally haggle them down. The only options I have left are violence or the threat of violence.)  
>  ST: (Indeed. And as exotic slavers with several stalls that seem to deal in elementals and the like, fighting all of them might risk coming up against someone able to handle Maji.)  
>  ST: ((Actually, as long as you're thinking))  
>  ST: ((Can we either pause or end the session there? It's getting late on my end.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Yeah, pause/end. Had a lot of fun and thank you for a really solid, lengthy roleplay!)  
> 

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: I really liked Pesala, for the record, and I am snickering at how you subverted the expectation of 'cute tigergirl cousins'  
>  ST: : 3  
>  ST: She is all of those things!  
>  ST: she's just also four years old at the moment.  
>  Inks: Aye  
>  Inks: So while I was thinking, a thought occurred  
>  Inks: a 'well used' virtue check  
>  Inks: is not one that taxes the player or forces them to divert  
>  Inks: but instead allows them to divert onto things they find fun  
>  Inks: P LIKE throwing money around for compassionate reasons, but as you proved, it's not always the best solution.  
>  Inks: anyway before I forget- XP?  
>  ST: Ah yes. 5xp+2mxp.  
>  ST: ... also 2xp for Maji, lol  
>  ST: he defeated his sudden and unexpected assailant and achieved a personal milestone : P  
>  Inks: pff  
>  Inks: for future reference, Inks is totally going to learn HAM just to tutor Pelasa  
>  ST: of course she is :P  
>  ST: do try to keep her confined to the townhouse while she's having lessons  
>  ST: and remember not to look away for more than half a minute  
>  Inks: heh  
>  ST: or you will finally track her down over on Seventh, poking at a sandship and asking the captain questions about it  
>  Inks: heh  
>  Inks: thank you for running, kind ST, I am looking forward to next session  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  ST: no problem, and I'm glad you enjoyed!  
> 


	12. Session 12: A Hard Sale

Inks stared in consternation at the seller behind the caged fire butterfly. They were old, from the sound of their voice, but she couldn't tell much more than that. She was a little too surprised to analyze it, frankly. The amount they'd named in response to her offer was beyond ridiculous.

Right then, if they wanted to deal, then she'd deal. She took the moment to first assess the slave's value, doing her best to hide her frown.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so I want to use Frugal Merchant and Insightful Buyer; the former tells me 'quality' like if they're broken, not what they are. The latter tells me market value here vs elsewhere, and negates [Essence] penalties on any roll to buy or sell them.)  
> Inks: (As far as I can tell, there's the fire butterfly, the wood god-blood, and the snakeperson+eggs who are 'on sale', but jury's still out on that last one)  
> Inks: (No rolls required btw on these Charms)  
> 

Inks' eye roamed over the three stalls she could see. The caged fire butterfly and fire duck were both probably worth a season or two or hepatizon from her factory - though the fire duck might be less than that if she was as dream-eaten as she appeared. Inks didn't think she was, though. The absence of intelligence in those eyes wasn't fractured, it was more... immature. As for the eggs? Well, assuming they were snakeman eggs, they'd probably be cheaper on their individually, but the whole basket was on the same level of price.

>   
> ST: ((The fire butterfly is a Res 4 purchase. The fire duck is also Res 4, but would be upper end of Res 3 if she was fully braindead. Inks doesn't think she is, though - she doesn't read as "broken". The eggs are individually high Res 2, but the whole lot together are another Res 4 purchase. The snakeman, if he is indeed for sale, is Res 3.  
> ST: The price that the seller named for the fire butterfly alone was a whopping Res _6_. Hmm. Does FMM by your reading deliver the intent of the merchant and return honest/dishonest?))  
> Inks: (If I try to haggle, I get +3 autosux if he's dishonest, +1 if honest)  
> ST: ((Yes, I'm wondering if given that Inks can tell whether they're honest or not when she uses the Charm.))  
> Inks: (So... could be either way? I'd lean towards no, as Solars have other Charms to determine that, but overlap/stacking is fine too)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay. So yeah, seller-person asked for literally a hundred times what the fire butterfly is worth.))  
> Inks: (alright, stunting a counter offer)  
> 

Inks scoffed, offended and not bothering to hide it. "Unacceptable. Your prices are preposterous, and lack true vision." She put her hands on her hips while Maji rumbled nearby, regal and supportive. "The sale of exotic slaves is a volatile market, that fluctuates with supply and demand. It's better to invest in assets that generate ongoing, passive income." She went on to explain, elaborating on the perks and virtues of demon labor and high-level economic theory. Some of it was deliberate obfuscation- she did not want to promise outright that she could summon demons for this man, but she made it clear that was among her skills and assets.

She pointed at the Fire Butterfly. "Imagine if you will making your asking price for her, ever year. Every half year, every _season_. Such things are possible when you become a savvy investor."

Ring-clad fingers drummed thoughtfully on the stall counter. The robed, hatted man nodded slowly. "You could be born of my blood," he said. "It's the nature of the desert, that about your ongoing income. A source of funds you can count on is worth far more'n highs and lows."

The drumming fingers stopped. "That's why I'm offering you that price in good faith. It's fair, or thereabout. You get what you want. We get what we want. Everybody wins."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Bureaucracy to realize something. Can be enhanced with FMM/IBT if you choose.))  
> Inks: (Alright. So IBT negates external penalties, *are there* external penalties?)  
> Inks: (You tend not to tell me the difficulty of rolls, after all, I can't tell when my charms will be useful or not)  
> ST: ((No, this is an "assess price/market values" thing that said Charms can enhance. Diff 3.))  
> Inks: !ex 5 +3; Inks rolled [10, 3, 2, 8, 10] for a compiled value of 8.  
> ST: ((... wow.))  
> Inks: (Oh,I think I misunderstood, you were saying the roll was supplementable by those charms? I'll just smile and nod and say I used 2nd bur here, as IBT would've been 'I just automatically succeed/have perfect knowledge)  
> Inks: (Anyway, _legendary success!_ )  
> 

Something about her own words tugged at the back of Inks' mind. Making his asking price every year... except that wasn't a year's asking price, was it? Looking at his business; at the value of the butterfly, of the lesser exotic animals in baskets or cages... given that, she would estimate that his asking price was more like... ten years.

Well, perhaps it would only be three to five if split between all three stalls. But still. For the amount he was offering, they could more or less pack up their stalls and not bother doing business here for the next half-decade or so.

... by which point, a voice that sounded a lot like 'Nanda remarked, many Solars in her position might have drawn enough attention to themselves to have been killed. How long was that monk at El-Galabi around for? Ten? Fifteen? Certainly no more than twenty, and from what she'd heard it had taken the Realm a while to find out about him.

And the old man in front of her had said himself that a stable income was better than an unpredictable one...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can deduce that he might be offering a reasonably fair price for the slavers to leave Gem and not come back as long as she's there, based on how much they'd make in the time until he expects her to get killed.))  
> 

"Oh." She blinked, once, startled and oddly enough, kind of flattered and bemusedly offended. Then she started laughing. "Oh _wow_." She looked down at Maji, smiling. "I am a living, breathing economic factor. My presence alone determines the rise and fall of fortunes, like famine or war." She looked back up at the slaver, still smiling, disarmingly so at that. "Alright, now you're at least making sense. I disagree with the _practice_ of slavery, mind, but that's a different argument."

She raised her hands like weighing scales. "So you want enough to get out of Gem, and see if you can outlast me like every other petty Exalted with delusions of grandeur." She paused. "Or, you could tie yourself to my rising star and see what happens, but run the risk of getting caught in my troubles. Perfectly reasonable to consider... Ten years pay in one sale, or ten years pay over ten years..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I guess I can cha+pres to convince him))||  
> ST: ((What's she trying to convince him on, exactly?))  
> Inks: ((that's what I'm stumped on, my original idea was pushing the slave issue into a few weeks, telling him 'hold these, don't sell more, we can talk more in depth Inks: (I could use an idea)  
> 

He twisted a gaudy golden ring around on one finger, and nodded. "Two good choices on my part. Maybe another for you, then."

He disappeared into the tent behind the stall for a moment, and Inks heard the sound of a lockbox being opened. When he emerged, it was with a small lead box carried carefully in his hands. He set it on the counter, shifted it forwards, and opened it. 

For a moment, Inks thought 'diamond'. It certainly looked the part - a many-faceted perfectly clear gemstone about the size of her thumbnail with a flat base, resting on a velvet cushion inside the box. 

Then the light caught it properly and golden sunlight turned into a brilliant fractal display of splendour within the jewel; sparkling white fire that burned cold and clear between its faces and daubed ephemeral phantom colours on the edges of the eye.

_Adamant_ , she revised her guess. An artifact like Chronicle; meant to be worn like a bindi. 

"This," said the old man, "doesn't have an asking price in money. I'll give it to you free of charge - but in return, you keep your disagreements away from the Sun Market's business."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Basically he's offering a trade - 1-dot Artifact for a 1-dot Ally rank, representing a promise not to challenge the Sun Market slavers. Other slavers are of course fair game. Appreciated, even.))  
> 

Inks crossed her arms, drumming her fingers against her bicep. "I can agree to that, within reason." She looked up at his masked face with an expectant tilt to her lips. "Your slaves are valuable, and they are _people_ , after all." She bowed and gently scooped the artifact up in her hand, before turning on one heel and moving on.

* * *

The furnace rhino sellers were watching wide-eyed as she stalked back towards them, Maji growling softly at her elbow and circling around her, trying to get her to double back. Apparently, he'd been under the impression that a great deal more violence was going to ensue, and had been looking forward to it.

Inks sighed and scratched Maji behind the ears. "I know, I was tempted too..." She exhaled softly and bowed apologetically to the horn sellers. "I am sorry about that disruption. May we still do business?"

Two of the men nodded mutely, wide-eyed behind the metal masks, while the last seemed to gather himself - slightly. "Y-yeah, yeah," he stuttered. "Yeah. Business. What you looking for?"

"Black Jade-" She smiled, subdued but a little sultry- she had standards of behavior she wanted to maintain. She described the amount she required, making a point to evaluate its market value while she did so. On her brow, the carved golden disc glittered faintly, hovering above her skin.  
  


>   
> Inks: (IBT on Furnace Rhino Horn. Perfect Market Knowledge + Penalty Negation. 2m caste mark, as I've spent all my motes so far.)  
> ST: ((So she's looking for Res 5 of pure black jade; a couple of talents worth. IBT allows her to overcome scarcity penalties, so she can certainly _obtain_ that much through them - though not immediately. It's just a matter of funding it.))  
> ST: ((Well, several talents worth. Enough to make a big centerpiece in the middle of her baths.))  
> 

"Black jade, black jade, yeah." The man nods. "We can get that; blackhorns. How much you needing? Redhorns are more common, sure you don't want summa them?"

Strutting forward, Inks sat down on one of the display tables, reaching out to touch one of the harvested horns with a few fingers. "Has to be black." She hummed, almost purred. "I could easily become a faithful client, if our deal goes well." She eyed the sellers, grinning.  
  


>   
> Inks:(Per + Soc +1d from sexy stunner style, determining motives and interests. Also counting this as 1 action to get 2m back)   
> ST: ((2 dice; roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 13; Inks rolled [4, 5, 2, 2, 10, 1, 7, 9, 10, 5, 5, 5, 2] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

"Right, yeah, 'course," the man babbled, leaning forward eagerly. One of his companions nudged him sharply in the hip, and he swayed back again.

"How much d'you need?" the nudger asked. His metal mask was duller; and despite having once been identical to the others; the dings and soot had given the neutral expression a faintly cross-eyed look to it. "We got a couple'a blackhorns here, but any more'n that and we'll have to kick up some dust in th'Scar."

"Several talents worth, I admit." She stretched, arching her back and holding her arms up high. "I can handle the refinement myself, so I only need the raw horn." She eyed the product on hand, before asking to confirm the price both by her own eye and with the seller.  
  


>   
> Inks: (FBT, Honest or dishonest?)  
> ST: ((More or less honest - somewhat more expensive than they're strictly worth, but given the risk involved in getting hold of them it's only overpriced by a small margin.))  
> 

Inks nodded. "Considering the time it'll take to fulfill the full order, and that I am _sure_ I will likely call on you fine businesspersons in the future..." Inks grinned, all white teeth and charm. "I think we can make a deal."

>   
> Inks: (Cha+Pres to negotiate the price down, +3 sexy stunner dice, +3 1st pres dice, +1 sexy stunner perk autosux, +1 IBT autosux. Stunt?)  
> ST: ((Diff 5 - she's trying to negotiate down a pretty large sum of money. Hmm. Has she made another Res 4 before, this year? She's made a fair few Res 3s.))  
> Inks: (Like, income stream? Hepatizon's only been running for about 3 seasons at Res 4)  
> ST: ((Has she made any purchases that cost her Res 4?))  
> Inks: (Oh, not to my knowledge yet)  
> ST: ((Cool. Then 2-die stunt; Diff 5.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +2; Inks rolled [3, 5, 6, 4, 10, 9, 7, 6, 10, 8, 1, 8, 4] for a compiled value of 10.  
> ST: ((niiiiiice))  
> 

It took a few rounds of debating over the price - and some input on Inks as to how and where to get the extra blackhorn material that she'll need - but they eventually agreed on a price. It was still formidable, and she wouldn't be making any other large purchases for some time, but within a couple of weeks she'd have all the raw material she needed.

* * *

With her business concluded, she thanked the two horn sellers, and made her way back home. Maji rumbled at her side, nudging her hip with his head as she walked. Pushing through the gates, she found the nearest chair and sat down. "What a day..." She moaned. Catching her breath, she pulled out the artifact, her 'price' for non-interference. "Well, I won't interfere with the sun market sellers." She hummed. "But I most definitely can make it so Gem doesn't run on slaves." 

So resolved, she examined the artifact, marveling at the facets and the fiery gleaming colors that it cast on her palm. There was an occult significance to it, the cut and style, some deeper meaning to be teased out from what she could see.  
  


>   
> Inks:(Per+Occult on Artifact. Stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice; roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks rolled [2, 3, 5, 9, 9, 7, 8, 7, 8, 10] for a compiled value of 11.  
> ST: ((... I was not expecting you to pass that threshold.))  
> 

Inks examines the jewel, turning it over and observing it from every angle. A loupe reveals blessings of Venus on the underside, as well as lesser elemental invocations. The script is incredibly fine; lines no wider than a human hair, and the geometry of the characters spells out its own symbol in turn.

To her surprise, Inks realized that she _recognised_ this artifact. Not the specific one she had in front of her, but it was one she'd read about and considered finding for herself; a Jewel of Cleansing Wisdom. The blessings on it would keep the wearer clean, refreshed and comfortable; never too hot or too cold.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Mechanically a Collar of Dawn's Cleansing Light - a regional variant design made from different materials.))  
> Inks: (...hahaha. Wow)  
> ST: ((: D))  
> Inks: (Note that the canonical collar has nothing to do with temperature regulation, it deals more in disease/cleanliness, are you making a clear statement that this is not the case?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, this is a Southern variant that affords temperature control for desert temperatures.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, does it replace the disease resistance then?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (Cool)  
> 

Inks: Inks blinked, mouth dropping open in mild awe. _This_ was a kingly gift, especially in Gem. Opportunities danced before her eyes, possibilities enabled. She licked her lips and gently pressed the gem to her brow, willing her Essence to reach out and take hold...

The adamant felt cool as it touched her forehead, but held obediently to her skin. It didn't stick or grip; just sat against her in a way that felt completely secure. She felt a ripple roll out from it, blowing her hair back for a moment, and then... 

... and then nothing. She felt no different, really. But she wasn't sticky with sweat beneath her robes anymore. The hair draped fetchingly down the side of her face wasn't tacky from the heat; it felt silky and smooth. She couldn't feel the lingering heat from being outside anymore; the temperature was just ri- 

... 

... there was no sand. 

_There was no sand_. _Anywhere in her clothing_. No gritty grainy annoying bits rubbing against her tattoo or forcing her to blink it out of her eyes!

Inks slumped back in her chair, awed. "C-Carsa?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"What would you do, to live in Gem without feeling sand everywhere?"

Her assistant adopts a confused look. "Ma'am?"

She pointed at the gem on her forehead. "Artifact. Keeps me clean." She stood up and shook out her robes. " _No sand_."

Carsa's eyes widened. "Like them clothes the really rich have; the ones that... that clean themselves. But they don't keep the ones who wear them clean too..." She steps closer, peering at the sparkling chip of adamant. "Where'd you get such a thing?"

"It's a long ugly story and I feel kind of dirty for having gotten it." Inks admitted. "Like, spiritually dirty, but I'm confident I can fix it. Slavers. Annoying." She huffed. Apparently she got terse when frustrated. "I'll tell you later, but I at least have a source of Black Jade now- soon I shall make a bath, and it will be great and glorious."

She paused. "Actually this thing has little sutras and litanies to Venus written on it... I might be able to scale it up for the bath itself..."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((: D))  
> ST: ((Okay, do you want to tie off there and we can do an in-between downtime baths-making thing before the next session?))  
> Inks: (That sounds good.)  
> Inks: XP?  
> ST: 3xp + 1mxp for a short session.  
> ST: and you now have your Jewel of Cleansing Wisdom.  
> Inks: huzzah  
> ST: happy with it?  
> ST: I decided to go with a variant of the usual collar  
> ST: (in part because Inks deserves an awesome bit of forehead bling)  
> Inks: yeah  
> Inks: Indian aesthetics are legit for Inks  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: Sorry about the short session. How was the resolution of the Sun Market for you?  
> Inks: I'm kinda frustrated that I don't have a lot of options yet, but that's my fault, and the virtue system is working as I expect it at least  
> Inks: Hmm... I feel like I chickened out a little, but that was due to circumstances, if I had more sleep and was less panicky, I might've tried for a more conflict-heavy resolution  
> Inks: but at the same time, focusing on Business felt more characterful for Inks, and you did a good job of really building out the slaver's motivations  
> Inks: So on the jewel of cleansing wisdom, +3 dice against temperature extremes when attuned?  
> ST: Heh. Yes. Someone who, when offered a confrontation with a Solar Exalt, goes "actually, I'm willing to just be paid to go away for as long as I think you'll survive. This is a great deal for you, because you're totally not going to go down to a puny Wyld Hunt, right?"  
> ST: Yes. And you get to ignore temperature discomfort that's on the fluff level.  
> ST: that is, the kind that isn't an environmental hazard  
> Inks: yeah  
> Inks: so now Inks needs to update her wardrobe to 'I give no fucks about the sun'  
> ST: : P  
> ST: which lets her show off her tattoo more~  
> Inks: yep  
> ST: there are a couple of other artifacts I have planned for her - one of them the Perfected Boots - but they won't fall into her lap as easily.  
> Inks: I might actually prefer to make them- depends if you think stiletto heels are a novel concept in Creation  
> Inks: that reminds me, did I ever tell you about the championship belt artifact I made?  
> ST: Don't think so, no.  
> Inks: Basically it was a belt that let you hide your smashfists, but it's real power  
> Inks: was that you could spend motes and immediately get mobbed by martial arts extras, who are nominally neutral but can be swayed to either side with a bit of effort.  
> Inks: "Fight me!" or "Fight with me!"  
> ST: lol  
> Inks: anyway, hmmmm  
> Inks: Alright, so I have the jade/will have it in time. I plan on further anchoring the baths in blessings/shrines to Venus, because Go Big or Go Home. I think it should be... There ought to be a tradeoff i feel of using 'local' sources or invoking distant powers, but I don't know how to articulate that   
> Inks: on the note of ported 1e charms  
> Inks: the two big ones I want to examine closely are Deft Official's Way and Irresistible Salesman Spirit  
> ST: okay  
> Inks: Anyway, we can talk about that tomorrow.  
> Inks: thank you again for running  
> Inks: Also I have spent 3mxp and 3 exp on Presence 3 and 4, respectively.  
> ST: gotcha  
> 


	13. Session 13: A Luxurious Artifice

Inks now had the materials she needed, and a good start on the research. But before she could do anything with it, it was probably wise to deal with a part of this project she'd been putting off. Namely; the legalities. Water, after all, was owned by one man in Gem and one man alone. Anything that deal with it was an infringement on his business. 

Despite his recent declaration of support and symbol of backing, Inks made a point to first query the Despot's court for when he could meet, and expertly navigated the turnarounds and scheduling dead-ends that infested any government or bureaucracy.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Speed the Wheels. We should probably rewrite it so that it uses the major minor trivial dramatic action speeds. Int+Bur at Diff 1...)  
> Inks: (Yeah, diff 1, minus external penalties from willfully obstructive bureaucracy)  
> ST: ((No penalty; roll it.))  
> Inks: (Unlucky, you said?)  
> ST: ((Aaaand that qualifies you to make a Diff 3 Perception+Investigation roll for EXTRA INFO.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled [6, 9, 10, 3, 5, 4] for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

* * *

Something was up. Inks could tell. She'd met with the Despot several times now, and it had never taken this long to arrange a meeting. It wasn't deliberate - she'd recognize the signs of someone being obstructive if they were there. But the palace was suddenly all a-scramble about something - enough that she had to wait almost a week for a chance to see the city's ruler.

And a little snooping around while she waited gave Inks an idea of what it might be. The rumour mills weren't _buzzing_ , exactly - the information was actually being kept off the streets quite well. But talk to the right people, and it turned out there had been some really brutal murders recently.

Telalsi was the one to fill Inks in on one of them - a Sahlak pimp with a history of neglecting the health of his whores. His corpse had been found nude; sprawled over a bed and fouled from a massive dose of cholera.

There had been a water-farmer, too; gagged and staked out on the Peak to die from sun. The last victim was apparently someone in the day-labourer business who'd been brutally beaten to death; almost every bone in his body shattered.

People died all the time in Gem, but murder like this wasn't often seen - and the businesses of a Great House and the Despot himself had been touched by two of the deaths. It wasn't hard to connect the dots and guess that the Despot was looking for the killer.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Dang.)  
> ST: ((Gem. Lovely place.))  
> Inks: (Eh. Until the dead are left in gutters to be washed out by storms...)  
> Inks: ((Anyway, I am ready to move onto Despot meeting scene! Set the stage?)  
> 

The clamour had died down a bit by the time Inks' meeting came due - she was actually pretty sure they were either investigating suspects or had caught the culprit - and she was received by the palace in a celebratory air. There were preachers outside the palace walls lauding the Despot's firm hand and unyielding law, and a riot of banners and pennants had been run out on the palace walls.

From the way they shone; Inks fancied they were dyed with crushed glowstone somehow - certainly it would be hard to get those glowing lines with studded stones.

Her reception into the palace had changed, too. The guards bowed to her, as did every servant she passed. Some knelt, and didn't rise until she'd passed. Her escort was more deferential, too, and led her by requests rather than directions along a shorter, less circuitous route to the Despot's chambers. He was reclining on a lounge chair rather than his usual throne, with one girl feeding him candied grapes and another massaging his shoulders. 

Inks bowed modestly, and none-too-privately exulting in her ability to wear an improbably gauzy, breathable silk gown and skirt. She gleefully defied the heat. Not a grain of sand stuck to her skin, and she basked in her own radiance and the fiery gleam of adamant on her brow. That aside, she was here for business. "Greetings." She said while straightening. Realizing that the Despot probably wasn't in the mood for a presentation with charts and diagrams, she set her sheaf of papers aside for the moment.

"Thank you for meeting with me. I've been working on a personal project that falls directly under your authority. I've done most of the work, but final execution hinges on you." She paused, smiling brightly. "I've designed a sorcerous bath, set to be enchanted with recuperative properties and ever-flowing water." She raised a hand to clarify. "By my calculations, if you set the baths aside for only drinking, it would be enough for around fifty people a month- though you probably wouldn't enjoy the full benefits."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Charisma + Presence, Diff 3.))  
> Inks: (sexy stunner style... Does Rankar have a strong intimacy of lust towards Inks?)  
> ST: ((Haha, yes.))  
> Inks: (Cool. +2 stunt I assume?)  
> ST: ((Yup))  
> Inks: (Cool, Cha 2, Pres 4, +2 stunt, +3 style, +6 excellency, +1 autosux from style perk)  
> Inks: !ex 17 +1;Inks rolled [5, 2, 8, 10, 4, 1, 4, 8, 6, 10, 3, 10, 9, 1, 6, 3, 2] for a compiled value of 10.  
> 

Rankar hummed thoughtfully. He seemed in a better mood than Inks would have expected - which she supposed meant that she was right; they had caught the culprit. Shifting more upright in his chair without leaving the reach of his masseur, he eyed the sheaf of papers she'd brought.

"An artificial spring?" he asks. "Interesting. Would you be able to scale up a working like this to supply the whole city?" 

"In theory." She smiled. "But I've already depleted a season or a year's worth of furnace rhino horn, we'd need to secure a supply of Black Jade, or some other replacement." She stretched, arms above her head and rising up on her toes. "Right now the best scale I can consider is for private, townhouse dwellings like mine."

"Mm, yes. I heard about your... display, at the Sun Market." His eyes flicker down her legs, and the hint of flowers and thunderous clouds visible through the gauzy fabric. The double-meaning is clear. "A pity. So, you want permission to create and hold a water source." He frowns. "What properties would it have, exactly?" 

"When bathing in it, it accelerates healing, and lets the bather recuperate from exhaustion extremely quickly, and the baths are both self-cleaning and temperature-regulating."

"And afterward? Would there be any power left in the water you intend to sell?" He seemed very interested in that point. 

"Well, as I've designed it, the water itself is only special in that it's being pulled from the stones that make up the bath fixture itself." She hummed thoughtfully. "With this specific design, I don't think the water is inherently magical, beyond perhaps being clean and drinkable. What's your interest in an empowered water?" 

"It would fetch a much higher price, of course," he replied casually. "But if it is simply a source of reliably clean water, I will allow you this project, as long as the water goes to one of my sellers and you make no profit from its sale. However..."

He smiled; eyes raking up and down Inks' form again. "I believe I would like such a bath in the palace, for my own pleasure. Until the materials are on hand for you to construct one for me, I will ask to make use of yours on occasion."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can note, incidentally, that he's left a clause open to let her profit from the baths - just not the sale of the drinking water.))  
> 

"Perfectly reasonable." Inks agreed with a grin. "I should have it ready in about two seasons, baring unforeseen setbacks." She stopped for a moment, before plucking a few finger foods from a nearby tray. "In the interests of getting more of these built, I would appreciate being informed of any black jade making its way through the markets or potential sources. Just something to keep in mind." With that, she bowed again to the Despot and turned smartly on one heel, walking out with her head held high and strut at full power.

>   
> Inks: (That was fun so far, and I am interested in this murder plot, but I didn't want to bog the scene down asking about it directly)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (So I want to grab a quick bite to eat, then we'll get on stunting for the actual bath construction!)  
> ST: ((Sounds good. If you want to pursue the murder plot, Inks can certainly check in a week or so what's been announced about it.))  
> Inks: (Good idea, thanks)  
> 

* * *

Jadecraft was in many ways similar to jewelcraft, and the Despot's word and seal smoothed numerous obstacles. Inks moved through the richly appointed and well-reinforced crown tunnels, seeking the finest of craftsmen and their tools. Connected by some degree to House Iblan, she found a master-apprentice chain of jewelers- a father son pair at the moment. The former immediately told the latter to _not_ have anything to do with the sorcereress, if only out of a desire to avoid an embarassing encounter.

Inks had to pout- the young man was _cute_.

Negotiating was simple, but Inks made a point to repair the pair's tools free of charge after she used them to render the furnace horn down into the shapes and powders she needed. Jade responded to heat like stone, unless carefully cajoled it would crack and spit. Coaxed with care, it melted and softened like clay under her fine manipulations, free of the horn itself.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunt on refining the horn. Tool/assistance bonus?)  
> Inks: (I'd get like 1d from the father)  
> ST: ((Yeah, valid.))  
> ST: ((Tools, hmm..))  
> ST: ((Let's call it +2 dice from the tools and workshop they've got set up.))  
> Inks: (Nice, dex 2 + craft 5 +2 tool +2 stunt +1 aide + 4 autosux)  
> Inks: !ex 12 +4; Inks rolled [6, 8, 2, 1, 4, 2, 6, 10, 4, 7, 2, 3] for a compiled value of 8.  
> ST: ((Success!))  
> 

The lump left over was tiny compared to the massive, craggy horns, but was still an impressive weight - several hundred pounds if it was an ounce. And it was beautiful. Even unworked, it was mesmerizing in the same way as her adamant gem - though rather than sparkling colourless fire, this stone was a lustrous black so deep that it felt like staring into a bottomless pool at Calibration under a moonless and starless sky. The surface seemed to ripple softly, and Inks half thought that she'd be able to plunge her hands into it like liquid if she tried.

>   
> Inks: (Nice!)  
> ST: ((I realized I hadn't really done enough with Chronicle, so I'm starting to make pure magical materials into a Big Deal; description-wise.))  
> Inks: (Aye, thanks)  
> 

* * *

The next two stages of her project were focused on her townhouse. In the bottom floor, Inks marked out a section of the grand paving stones, scoring lines with precisely calculated angles that in turn fit the properly resonant stone she'd sourced from nearby quarries- stone from rivers and lakes. Some were smoothed by water, others rough and craggy. In either case, they were to make up the highs and lows of the bath itself.

The day labor to actually carve the basin was easy enough, and along the way she asked after the results of that murder investigation. Meanwhile she researched her spell of Water From Stone, carefully teasing apart its ritual into expanded patterns and expressions of Essence. She supplemented that with more ruminations on her Adamant Gem of Cleansing, carefully enlarging and identifying the numerous blessings of cleanliness and temperature regulation.

When the sorcerous research was complete, assembling the stones into the auspicious, 'shrine bath' configuration was a simple matter. Clapping her hands free of non-existent dust, Inks smiled, and then hummed at the bath's location on the public, lower courtyard of her home. "Carsa, do I come off as exhibitionist?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((... uh... is this both remaining rolls in one go?))  
> Inks: (Nah this is just the first one, I Was gonna do a separate consecrating stunt)  
> Inks: (sorry for it being confusing)  
> ST: ((Cool, just checking.))  
> Inks: (The'sorcerous research roll')  
> 

Carsa bit her lip. "Not... not at all, ma'am," she said.

>   
> ST: !ex 4; ST rolled [5, 6, 2, 6] for a compiled value of 0.  
> 

It is not a very good lie.

>   
> Inks: (Heh. Stunt bonus?)  
> ST: ((2 dice.))  
> Inks: (Diff 5 modifying spell)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks rolled [2, 3, 9, 10, 8, 5, 9, 3, 10, 3] for a compiled value of 11.  
> ST: ((... okay. Uh. Definitely succeeded on that one.))  
> 

It took the better part of a season's work, teasing out the sorcerous formulae and essence-patterns and working out how to solidify them in a solid anchor rather than shape them purely by will. But in the end Inks prevailed - and the challenge was actually fun. Enough to push her, but not to the point of frustration. Engaging, but not torturous. She felt like she'd achieved a greater understanding of sorcery of this kind with the work she'd done on it.

>   
> ST: ((+1 "equipment" bonus to sorcerous research involving water-themed spells in future, from having mastered basic principles of the way such willworking functions. Probably note that down, because I'll forget.))  
> Inks: (Nice, records adjusted)  
> 

The last task and arguably the simplest one required a particular set of skills and qualities that Inks only had an academic knowledge of. She needed the services of a priest.

After canvasing for the services of a spiritually-inclined sort, she gathered her forces and listened to their consultation on the methods to consecrate her project. "We aim to invoke the grace and comfort of Venus, Maiden of Serenity." Inks declared, and hired well-trained astrologers to pin down the days on which the Maiden's star was at its most auspicious points in the sky. Her priests coached her on the rituals, ensuring she would know what to say, how to be sinciere in her offerings, and the myriad idiosyncrasies of men and god.

Rich, expensive incense was the offering of the moment, and Inks used her hands and air from her lips to coax it into aupsicious patterns. Under the cerulean light of the governing star, Inks and her priests marked out the boundaries of the baths, and asked that it be made powerful if not sacred in the eyes of the Maiden.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cool. 2-die stunt, Diff 3.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks rolled [5, 5, 2, 8, 10, 9, 8, 3, 7, 1] for a compiled value of 10.  
> Inks: (Threshhold of... 7?)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((WELP))  
> 

As the final ritual came to a close and Inks cast a vivid blue sapphire into the air, the distant star that was Venus twinkled.

Then it flashed bright for a moment.

A gust of perfumed air swept through the baths, and Inks felt for a moment the warm presence of a feminine body behind her. A silky laugh whispered against her ear, and she felt long, velvet hair brushing across her shoulder. A thrum of pleasure ran through her, so intense as to make her knees weak, and as the sapphire fell she saw reflected in it a face of impossible, inhuman beauty. The eyes were _so blue_...

Then the sapphire tinkled across the stone, and the presence was gone.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Dang.)  
> ST: ((Iiiiiiinks))  
> 

Inks blinked once, exhaled, and looked at her completed work. For a moment there was nothing... and then from the highest points of the tallest stones, water trickled. It sparkled under the light of the stars and the banked torches behind ornate scones. And she watched as it filled with clean, pure water. She turned then to the priests, who themselves were awestruck. Not trusting her voice, she quietly urged them to stay for an hour, as this was _their_ lifestyle more than anything. She retreated to her room for that time, and when she finally came back downstairs, the townhouse was empty save for her immediate employees, Maji and her hired guards.

Two seasons of long, rewarding work. Inks pulled at the catches and ties on her dress and stepped free of them in one smooth move, before sinking into the waters for a well deserved soak.  
  


> * * *
> 
> Inks: (Alright! Baths are finished!)  
> ST: ((Indeed!))  
> ST: ((I am lol'ing so hard right now.))  
> ST: ((you realize you literally ate a full-diff prayer roll there, right?))  
> Inks: (Thinking about it, yeah)  
> ST: ((Prayer rolls are Diff (7-Resources) -1 for priests.))  
> Inks: (Yeah, strictly speaking because I invoked incense, that was -whatever resources)  
> ST: ((3, yeah. Which is how Inks got it down to Diff 3 with the priests' help, and then she went and got a full 7 threshold sux and _Venus noticed_.))  
> ST: ((Sooo... your baths may have an extra effect. If so, Inks doesn't know what it is. Yet. Or Venus might decide to respond some other way.))  
> ST: ((Want to close the session there on a high note?))  
> Inks: (Might as well. XP?)  
> ST: 4xp + 2xp for HILARIOUS PLOT ANTICS + 1mxp + 4Sxp  
> ST: Inks, you ridiculous person.  
> Inks: dang  
> ST: If she ends up the Incarnae equivalent of Keris being fetich-bait, I'm gonna laugh.  
> Inks: Heh  
> ST: Yes, what were your thoughts on Venus's manifestation?  
> Inks: Classy  
> ST: Cool. ^_^  
> Inks: I don't mind getting powerful god attention, I just want to make sure it's... no overwhelming the narrative.  
> ST: Yeah.  
> ST: That was basically a remote drop-in between turns at the Games to see what the lovely prayer was.  
> Inks: yeah.  
> ST: rather than an in-person manifestation  
> Inks: Like... I've been afraid of in other games  
> Inks: of invoking powerful beings or doing things  
> Inks: out of concern that doing so will just derail  
> Inks: also amusingly, Inks is still only Essence 3  
> ST: Hmm?  
> Inks: so this is a good demonstration that you don't need to be E5 or whatever to have an impact  
> ST: indeed  
> Inks: my current theory re murders btw is Mysterious Ally  
> ST: *smile*  
> 


	14. Session 14: A Murder Mystery Most Foul

Inks' new baths were glorious. There was really no other way to describe them. Maji seemed particularly taken with them, and had claimed a place half in and half out; his head laying on his paws on one of the lower rocks while his hindquarters enjoyed the cool water and his tail flicked small sprays left and right.

She was only given five days to enjoy regular soaks, though, before an unexpected visitor came to her door. Inks heard Carsa's yelp from the second floor, and came down to find her employee being loomed over by a seven-foot robed figure who wore the seal of an Imperial Sorcerer around her neck. Bright orange light escaped through gaps in the robes and veil, and the inner glow made it look as .though fires burnt on just the other side of the dark cloth. 

For the moment Inks said nothing, merely looking her new guest over before stepping back and silently welcoming her guest into the entrance hallway. She'd thrown on a white-gauze robe in an effort to be presentable, but she'd just gotten out of the bath as well. Carsa moved on her own initiative, preparing refreshment while Inks guided the sorcerer to her courtyard table. The baths were just a few yards away, and Maji yawned expansively.

Inks pulled a chair out for the tall figure, smiling. "Take a seat- what can I do for you?" 

"There has been an incident." In contrast to her size and intimidating mien, Celi's voice was surprisingly soft. "You are required to attend the Despot and Iblan Asenya at once. Please dress quickly; it is a matter of importance." 

Inks nodded and moved with a will. "Keep explaining while I get ready."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So my thought here is that Celi explains during a scenebreak and that justifies Inks bringing medical supplies or sorcerous supplies, depending on the explanation.)  
> 

"A man has been found dead in the upper mines." Celi said bluntly. "The Despot wishes to question you on the matter. I cannot say more than this."

>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Wits+Socialise to guess at more detail.))  
> ST: ((Diff 3))  
> Inks: (... Inks is not a classy lady yet. Soc 1. Anyway, I'll try with 1st excellency for 6d)  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks rolled 5, 6, 10, 3, 7, 3 for a compiled value of 3.
> 
> ... well, thought Inks. She was a suspect in a murder. A serious murder, because men died in the mines all the time - the Despot _and_ the Dragonblooded in charge of the city's tunnel geomancy taking an interest meant that this was a murder dire enough that it threatened the mines themselves.
> 
> That was alarming. Suddenly the choice of Celi as a messenger made more sense. Another sorcerer - and an ifrit besides, able to command fire and force obedience with her words. Inks was willing to bet that either Celi was armed, or there was backup waiting outside. 
> 
> Inks swallowed thickly but finished her preparations. "I'm ready. Let's go."  
> 

* * *

Iblan Asenya met them at the gates of the palace, apparently too impatient to wait. She was... small, actually. From what Inks had heard of her, she'd seemed like a ten-foot warrior of stone whose will over the mines was unquestionable, but this white-haired old woman looked wispy and frail. Her skin must have looked a little like granite in her prime; rich tan flecked with mica, but now it was pale and washed-out and she walked with a slight stoop.

The two-foot hammer resting on her shoulder did somewhat salvage the impression, though. She greeted Inks with a piercing glare from watery grey eyes, looked her up and down intently, then led them off with a jerk of the head. They made their way to a cold-room, in which was waiting the Despot and something that looked uncomfortably like a body covered by a sheet.

Three pairs of eyes bored into Inks as a servant flipped the top back, revealing the unmarked face of a man that...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Int+Lore))  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled 6, 8, 3, 9, 3, 6, 2, 3, 7, 4 for a compiled value of 3.  
> 

... Inks did not recognize whatsoever.

"Do you know who this is?" asked Rankar. 

"Not a clue." Inks shrugged helplessly. She stepped lightly around the corpse, mindful of the scent of decay and forensic alchemy. She looked at Celi, Asenya and the Despot in turn, asking for silent permission, before she carefully lifted his wrist and checked his hands. His feet- his personal effects were on a nearby table. The cut and quality of his clothing... She wasn't exceptionally _talented_ yet, but her eye was good.  
  


>   
> Inks:(Per+Invest to determine things about this man, what was his job, etc... By raw this will take 15 minutes, if I had a charm I could do it in 5 seconds, but I don't~. Once I'm done with Investigation, I'll do Medicine for cause of death. Difficult/Stunt?)  
> ST: ((Well, hang on.))  
> Inks: (hanging!)  
> 

Asenya drew in a sharp breath, and Inks saw her dip a quick, subtle nod to the Despot. His eyes narrowed.

"You have met him once before." He motioned at the adamant gem that adorned Inks' forehead. "He gave you that. Do you know what might have killed him?" 

Inks blinked once. "Uh..." She wracked her mind, perhaps there _was_ something, but some connection she was missing. She went over her history of Gem, of strange incidents or those moments where her temper and moral streak got the better of her...  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I have a THEORY, but I don't want to just spit it out if Inks can't draw the conclusion. What should I roll?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Int+Investigation, Diff 4. Inks can, incidentally, work out that Asenya has some means of spotting lies, and they're trying to either confirm her connection with the murder or rule her out as a candidate.))  
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((yeah, 2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks rolled 7, 10, 7, 1, 1, 2, 1, 4 for a compiled value of 7.  
> ST: ((... I realise I should have asked which theory exactly you had, but yeah, go for it. Or at least, she's clear to realize it - up to her whether to share.))  
> Inks: (apologies, the theory is my Mysterious Ally)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I more mean what theory Inks has, since she doesn't know she has "Mysterious Ally" on her character sheet. : P))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, I will clarify in my reply)  
> ST: ((Go for it))  
> 

"Okay..." Inks bit her lip before frowning. "A few months ago, when I was making an expedition to El-Galabi, my townhouse was attacked. The running theory is that Maji's a great deterrent. But before the attack could really get underway, someone intervened and beat the mob down. I never actually _saw_ this though, as it was two weeks past when I got home."

She waved at the man. "I had a _moral_ grievance with this man, though he was wearing a mask at the time, and made it clear that I did not want anything to do with him... Well. Bluntly-" She turned to the Despot. "I don't like slavery, but I also understand Gem's economy is _built_ on it... Anyway, the point is that if my guess is right, someone or something heard of my disagreement and decided to... act on it?" She shrugged again. "I honestly did not want to kill the man, I just wanted him to make money another way."

Asenya's stare bored into her for a moment longer before the old woman nodded. "Truth," she said. Her voice was as frail as the rest of her; more a whisper than anything. The mood in the room relaxed considerably, and Inks was fairly sure Rankar let out a heartfelt sigh of relief.

"My apologies for the interrogation," he said. "But your disagreement with him was public, and he was killed... brutally." He gestured at the corpse; its face unmarked and uncovered, the rest of it still hidden under cloth. 

"That's kind of why I guessed..." She offered the man a rueful smile. "You know I'm from Nexus, right? Crime and punishment there is... decisive. Being treated like this is honestly refreshing." 

"In that case..." Rankar motioned to Celi, who bowed and left. Apparently she was no longer needed as muscle. "The Copper Spiders are said have unparalleled insight, and we cannot afford for this to occur again. What can you tell me from the body?"  
  


>   
> Inks nodded and braced herself, before pulling the sheet back and preparing for the examination. Brutality was right.  
> Inks: !ex 10 +5; Inks rolled 3, 7, 9, 7, 4, 4, 6, 6, 2, 1 for a compiled value of 8.  
> Inks: (wow that was a garbage per+med roll)  
> ST: ((Still good enough to make out most of the details. Also, roll me Int+Inv at Diff 4 for her looking into the murders from two months ago.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled 6, 10, 4, 10, 5, 6 for a compiled value of 7.  
> 

Brutality was _definitely_ right. The old man's face; weather-worn and creased with age, had been left untouched. Inks put him in his sixties, maybe a little older if he'd availed himself of longevity drugs.

The rest of him, though...

There were claw marks. There were teeth marks. There were bruises and bones sticking through the skin. There were lurid, awful burns and places that had just been _crushed_. And there were names. All over him, names had been carved into his skin - carved with fingernails and claws and chips of rock.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Compassion for, uh, probably throwing up))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks rolled 5, 9, 6 for a compiled value of 1.  
> Inks: (Do I have to vomit on a success?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. No, but she definitely feels sick. Hang on; analysis bit.))  
> 

Inks shuddered and felt her bile rise, but managed to refrain from gagging. Because she'd seen brutality like this before. In El-Galabi, on the bodies of the Realm troops. This man had been found in the upper mines, and everyone knew that there were shadowlands and mine-ghosts in the lower reaches.

A man like this must have left a lot of dead people behind him. Apparently, someone had decided to arrange a reunion.

And... Inks had a feeling it was the same someone from two months ago. This was a similar level of brutality with a moral backing - and while they'd executed someone for that, Inks hadn't been convinced. The Cahzorite had only been linked to two of the crimes - he'd been swindled by the water-farmer and done business with the labour-master before dropping the man for another, lower offer....

...But everyone knew that Cahzorites were untrustworthy foreigners who hated Gem for stealing wealth and trade from their once-great city, and by the time Inks had looked into it, the man had already been exsanguinated on order of the Despot - hung upsidedown and bled dry for his precious water.

A labour-master who she'd heard had beat his slaves. A water-farmer who'd charged unfair prices to those from out of town who didn't know better. A pimp who didn't care for the health of his brothel. And now a slaver left to the ghosts of the people he'd killed.

She doubted Rankar was going to like her conclusion.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, attempting to parse that as a player. the Cahzorite was the one found guilty and executed, but the sun marketer we're standing before now died _after_ that execution.)  
> Inks: (And right now all of our 'victims' died in brutal, feral ways...)  
> ST: ((Bingo. And Inks considers the evidence pointing to the Cahzorite to be pretty weak, and at least partly based on prejudice and bad-feeling between the cities.))  
> ST: ((Also ironic ones given their 'crimes'.))  
> 

Inks sucked on her teeth, wan and pale from her unsettled stomach. She looked over at the Despot, lips pressed into a thin, severe line. "I'm getting the distinct impression that our murderer is in fact a ghost. I've seen savagry like this when I visited El-Galabi."

>   
> ST: ((Is she linking it to the original- ahh, heh. Is she implying she thinks it's the original murderer's ghost?))  
> Inks: (Neither, honestly. She's just saying 'It's likely a ghost.', she has no idea who it is.)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> 

Asenya pursed her lips. "I have contacts among the mine-ghosts," she said. "I've questioned them. They know nothing - they've /told/ me nothing. Less than nothing. It's unsettling."

Inks nodded. "We have a total of four murders with the same basic pattern- awful brutality and ironic punishment. Ghosts are known to maintain vendetta- they _have to_ , sometimes. So..." She shrugged again. "I'm not sure where to begin as far as investigating, but I certainly won't forget this problem either." She paused, and turned to the Despot. "The latests victim's assets. The slaves he owns- I have no right to them and honestly wouldn't be comfortable taking them, but I respectfully request that they be treated well, assuming someone hasn't already taken them..."

Rankar scowled. "Lady Inks," he said. "I will make arrangements for the slaves, but this brutality cannot be allowed to stand. The mines _must_ keep producing - and the Sun Market is a valuable source of revenue also. If this murderer - this ghost - is willing to kill one of the Market Heads, they might move on the Great Houses next. You will find them, as an sorcerer of the throne, and bring them to heel." He paused for a moment, before adding; "Intact. And in a form that can still feel pain." 

Inks nodded. "I will require support from the Despot's court then-" She declared. "to develop the skills needed to even achieve this, but I accept the task." She turned to Asenya. "I would greatly appreciate being informed of what you do to protect the mines already- I don't want to suggest things that are patently obvious. Just a document describing your procedures would be perfect."

Inks: (My goal here is to have something to refer too as a tool bonus later on for research rolls) 

Asenya's lips thinned again, but she nodded reluctantly. "I'll take you through the basics tomorrow evening," she promised. "After we finish sweeping the mines for any other bodies." 

Inks gave the older Exalt an honest, shining smile. "I appreciate that, thank you." 

She seemed about to reply, but was interrupted by a servant-girl rushing in, bowing hastily, and attempting to speak to both Inks and Rankar without actually facing either of them.

"M-my lord, lady Inks..." she stammered. "There is, uh... at the walls, that is... um... the lady's... animal... companion..."

Distantly, Inks hears a furious roar from the direction of the palace walls. 

"...Well this is inauspicious." And with that, Inks moved to meet with Maji.

* * *

Her tiger friend _had_ been dozing in the baths when she'd left. Evidently at some point he'd noticed her missing and found out why she'd gone. Or perhaps that emotional bond that was meant to occur with one's familiar had alerted him. She _had_ felt a spike of shock and horror and nausea on seeing the body.

Regardless of where he had _been_ , he was _now_ pacing in front of the palace gates, roaring and occasionally slamming into them with a bronzed, muscled shoulder. Peering down over the wall, Inks could see several parallels rows of deep scratches on the metalwork - and half a dozen splintered spears from where the guards must have tried to fend him off.

Luckily, there were no actual bodies. Yet. 

Inks rushed down, throwing her arms around the tiger's neck and heedless of his size, fearsome claws, teeth or bronze anatomy. She cooed, praising him for his loyalty and willingness to rush to her defense, but also reassuring him that she was _fine_. Ruffling his fur around his cheeks and jaw, she pressed her forehead against his brow.

Taking a breath, she stood and urged the much calmer tiger to lie down while she addressed the guards. To them she bowed. "I'm sorry- I didn't expect him to rush to my defense so stridently. Is anyone hurt?"

They appear shaken, but not injured. A captain - identifiable by the helmet crest of golden wire - shakes his head.

"We saw him coming and got the gates closed in time," he said. "Tried to discourage him without hurting him, since he's yours, but..." He gestures at the broken spears. 

"Send them to my townhouse-" She nodded, apologetically. "I'll see them repaired or replaced." Turning back to Maji, she hugged him again and then told him to stay put for the moment. Walking quickly back inside, she found first a servant, who then found the Despot, and she confirmed with him that she was leaving and that there was no longer any issue. She bowed to Rankar. "I will begin investigating these murders at once." 

He nodded gravely. "Remember. Get me something I can punish."

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so I'm somewhat limited by the fact that Inks has Investigation 1 and no XP to raise it. I have other things I can do though... What would you call a research action on the nature of ghosts and this one's modus operandi?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. That would be Int+Occult.))  
> Inks: (Trivial, Minor, Major?)  
> ST: ((At least for the "nature of ghosts" bit. Hmm. Well, mm. This is basically two actions - one "ghost basics" and one "profiling this serial killer", yes?))  
> ST: ((Both Trivial, then, but Int+Occult for one and Int+Investigation for the other. Diff 2 for the first, Diff 3 for the second.))  
> Inks: (For context, the idea was that like, these kinds of scenes should embellish Gem or Inks's story or be mini-challenges in their own right, but I already have rolls, so I don't need to be double-challenged.)  
> 

Gem did not have a proper, centralized cache of information or institutions of higher learning. Oh, schools and universities existed, but they were private, informal affairs that were more focused on the Great Houses and maintaining their purity of identity and purpose. The one contact she _did_ have though was worth his weight in silver, maybe even jade. Calling upon Ryabu in turn gave her access to the Rangers archives of ghostly lore, which in turn led her to other private collections.

It was a whirlwind tour of the savants of Gem. Wizened old men and women with sandy, stubbornly maintained back-rooms of old papers. Another cache turned out to be a spirit who lived in a lantern, who was the 'librarian' for an ancient archive. To that modest god Inks promised a wealth of Incense as thanks. As she continued through Gem, her hours of research extended into a day or two, and by the end of it, she had synthesized a primer of ghostly nature that she could be proud of.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So this covers the 'primer on ghostly nature' action. Stunt value?)  
> ST: ((Hee. Nice. 2 dice.))  
> Inks: (and/or tool bonus from any papers?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, +1 from excellent use of Contacts.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +4; Inks rolled 6, 2, 9, 3, 6, 7, 1, 2, 10, 7, 1, 1, 3 for a compiled value of 9.  
> ST: ((... yeah, okay, that's a princely collection of ghostly lore, so, uh...))  
> ST: ((Not sure how to convey all of that. Have we gone through ghost/Underworld mechanics and decided what changes we're using?))  
> Inks: (Not really. Right now I'm just using the broad strokes of how ghosts work; driven by passions, loves blood, varying levels of power. Don't fuck with hungry ghosts.(  
> 12:25 ST: ((Right.))  
> Inks: (I know that the El-Galabi arc had some insights, but we can logdive for those later)  
> Inks: (I suppose one suggestion is that you can tell me specific stuff about infamous or Relevant ghosts in the Gem area. Like how the DB gal had ghostly contacts.)  
> 

* * *

By the time she finished, Inks felt colder than the had before; laden down with the knowledge of what lay below the baking heat of Gem. But she was also confident in her expertise. She was willing to bet she knew more about the Dead than single being in the city - save perhaps Iblan Asenya, who she had suspicions about. She know of their Passions, their habits, of the different fates of the hun and po after death. She could identify the Common Dead, the Greater Dead and the Lords of Death above all others.

She was... also fairly sure that the thing she'd heard in the temple at El-Galabi was, in all probability, a Greater Dead monster of some sort - at least. Possibly the greater yidak left behind by the Solar monk who'd built it. That, um. That could prove a problem if she ever went back there.

And she knew about the Dead of Gem, too. Oh yes, she knew about the Dead of Gem. Iblan Asenya had sat her down and gone through a long, /long/ list of mining procedures - and while most of them had to do with shoring and shifts and slag, some of it was about the deep mines.

There were ghosts down there. Miners dead from tunnel collapses; crushed or starved or burnt to death. Some of them were friendly; and took the offerings of the miners and warned their living companions with tapping and omens when a wall was unsound or a flint was buried in a firedust deposit.

But others were bitter, furious things whose spectral forms glowed ember-hued from the firedust worked into their corpuses. Who lured miners with dark promises of untold riches and then fell on them like monsters. Who tapped their way to cause cave-ins or howled in the dark places beneath the earth.

And in the very deepest mines, there were shadowlands that were... wrong. Places where the very walls seemed to whisper. Where there was the impression of something Dead, and inhuman, and _vast_.

Asenya had been down there, Inks thought. Asenya had, in all probability, spent a little _too_ much time in contact with the Dead. The way she was so washed-out and pale, the way her voice rarely rose above a whisper - the way none of her many children have Exalted themselves, despite her fairly pure blood and clear aspect markings. Perhaps too much exposure to the necrotic essence of the shadow-mines was responsible - but if so, Asenya had admitted nothing.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Dang. Did Inks accidentally deduce a Labyrinth connection? And can I have done Flawless Diagnosis on Asenya?)  
> ST: ((Inks has heard only rumours that there's something down there in the deep mines that's worse than any ember-ghost or tunnel-trickster - something even the mine-ghosts seem to fear. And she can have used Flawless Diagnosis, yes - what traits or symptoms is she looking at?))  
> Inks: (This assumes Asenya agreed to a 5 minute diagnosis- All of the pale, washed out wanness and lack of dragonblooded descendants. If Inks lacks enough information to diagnose, she will get a return of 'You know something is wrong, but not what.')  
> Inks: (Also note that once the diagnosis returns, Inks will have enough information to determine an effective treatment, or what keywords prevent it from being treatable.)  
> ST: ((Yeah, it's death-related. Asenya's essence has a necrotic taint that's interfering with her natural Earth resonance. Hmm. Roll me Int+Lore, Diff 5.))  
> Inks: (Why am I rolling, Flawless Diagnosis is Win or Not?)  
> ST: ((Yes, and she won - she's rolling to put something else together based on lore she knows.))  
> ST: ((Or might know.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay!)  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled 4, 6, 5, 3, 4, 8, 8, 6, 4, 6 for a compiled value of 2.  
> Inks: (Alas, did not spend on excellency that time. I can try again later I guess)
> 
> ST: ((Inks hasn't ever heard of this sort of death-taint to Dragonblooded before. The best and most obvious treatment would be to _stop sticking it in the shadowlands_ , but Asenya's unlikely to be willing to give up her work in the mines. Failing that, common means like lots of sun, an earth-themed diet, time in Earth demesnes and around lots of living things would help with the fragility symptoms, but the damage to her breeding potential has probably been done - it's a Crippling effect at this point.
> 
> There's not likely to be much that can be done for her children's chances of Exalting, since she was under the effects when she had them, though the same sort of elemental bolstering might help some of her grandchildren.))
> 
>  
> 
> Inks: (Okay. So a WEALTH of information. Also, how old is Asenya? Because for a DB to look old... And I'm also drawing a blank for the Investigation stunt, because most of my ideas are 'be Helga Sinclair' and it's just not working out in my head. So I'm just gonna roll the investigation roll straight)  
> Inks: (But I will spend a wp)  
> Inks: !ex 6 +4; Inks rolled 3, 5, 10, 5, 9, 8 for a compiled value of 8.  
> Inks: (Legendary threshold success~)  
> ST: ((Inks doesn't know the exact dates, but Asenya's been here since the time of Rankar IV and is probably over 200 - and coming to the end of her natural DB lifespan. There's a reason her authority over the mines re: "no, you fucks, this will collapse tunnels" is near-absolute.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> ST: ((She's older than the current head of House Iblan by a century, and could easily _be_ the head if she had any interest in running the house whatsoever. Which she does not.))  
> Inks: (Heh.)  
> 

* * *

There were four main entries on Inks' investigation board. Labour-owner, water-farmer, Sahlak pimp and Sun Market Head. It's... a little alarming to see that three of the four can be loosely traced back to her - the labour-owner had operated in the section of Seventh Scorpion that she had hired from to furnish her house, and she'd been dealing with House Sahlak around the time the pimp had died. The water-farmer, at least, showed no real links back to her.

That, though, wasn't the interesting part. The interesting part was the fifth entry on the board - the attack on her manor. Because when she brought her theory into play and started looking for things similar to _that_... she hit gold.

The pattern repeated several times over the course of the original murders: a dirty figure robed in rags appearing suddenly and dispensing a vicious beating to one party or another. Most of the cases were the sort of thing Inks expected; a few attempted robberies, one near-murder, one or two delicately phrased cases that would probably have ended in rape... they'd been missed because nobody had died, but it was definitely linked.

That activity had taken a dip during the two-month lull after the Cahzorite's execution, just like the murders. There was enough before it to assemble a picture, though. A short figure, with thick sandals raising their height slightly. A staff, in every case - and a few people seemed to think it was a khakkhara; a four-ringed monk's staff.

Gender, skin colour, voice, face and hair were all a garbled bag of contradictory nonsense that were probably filled in after the fact by faulty memories, but there was one lead she _did_ have. One thread among the beatings that remained a constant, right up to the disappearance - and turned up again, barely a week ago, just before the murder of the Sun Marketeer.

In just over half the cases she'd compiled - more than every other group _put together_ \- the figure had been protecting one of the Ragged.  
  


>   
> Inks: (A Lead! Huzzah!)  
> Inks: (Does the despot have an expert on the Ragged, or among my contacts and employees, would one be better?)  
> ST: ((Honestly, there are no experts on the Ragged - they're street beggars who are largely ignored or trodden on.))  
> Inks: (Looks like there's a niche I'm going to fill then!)  
> Inks: (So, to clarify, my investigations are suggesting that the _real_ culprit is someone who is protecting Ragged. They might be a ghost, but might not....)  
> ST: ((Indeed. And the murders might be more protection of the Ragged, or just general moral crusading like the slightly-less-than-half non-Ragged interventions.))  
> 

With her findings in hand, Inks composed a report and sent it to the Despot's court, summarizing her investigation thus far with the revised theory that a likely suspect is seeking justice on behalf of the Ragged, with a wide streak of moral crusading in the face of Gem's injustices... With that in mind, she appended a handful of draft proposals on projects she hoped to begin, independent of her position as Court Sorcerer.

>   
> ST: ((... just quickly roll Int+Socialise, Diff 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks rolled 1, 8, 7, 9, 1, 1 for a compiled value of 6.  
> 13:17 ST: ((Inks is aware that Rankar is Not Happy and looking for someone to bring down the hammer on - and given the brutal way he killed the Cahzorite and his reputation for cruelty when riled, she suspects that a his response to a report saying "someone's doing this on behalf of the Ragged" will be to react against the Ragged. Either in the hopes of drawing out the culprit, or just out of anger.))  
> 13:18Inks: (Hah, thanks for catching that.)  
> 13:18 ST: ((Yeah, didn't want to drop that on you without warning.))  
> 13:19 ST: ((You can redo that action as you wish.))  
> 

On second thought, she rephrased her report... and then scrapped it. Perhaps there was another way.

* * *

Rising from her desk, Inks called Maji to her side and sauntered out of her house gates. She looked left, and right, eyes out for the telltale signs of the disenfranchised and trodden upon. She hadn't had much traction in raising local value and prestiege on Eighth Scorpion, but she had time.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Aware/Invest?)  
> ST: ((What are you looking for?))  
> Inks: (Ragged, or someone who's seen Ragged).  
> ST: ((Awareness, Diff 2))  
> Inks: (I mean, my impression is that they're vagrants and homeless, which means they're going to be forced to the surface whenever possible, or huddling in the tunnels)  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks rolled 5, 6, 6, 2, 8, 5 for a compiled value of 1.  
> Inks: (Dang, just not doing good on those low pool rolls.)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((lol))  
> Inks: (I'll have Maji roll if that's alright?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, sure.))  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks rolled 5, 5, 4, 7, 6, 10 for a compiled value of 3.  
> 

It was not a very productive walk. Inks toured Eighth Scorpion and a decent chunk of Sixth without seeing hide nor hair of any Ragged. Maybe they all had some ritual observance to make at this exact time of day? Or had all decided to go loiter in First and Carack for the week? Or someone had warned them all that she was looking for them?

Maji, apparently catching her train of thought, gave a growl that sounded a lot like an exasperated sigh, hit her in the back of the head with a lashing tail, and took the lead. Within ten minutes, they were faced with a band of rag-clad street-pickers huddled around a small, temporary wall-shrine; boxed in by Maji's imposing size and fangs.

The huff that Maji gave as he shifted aside for her sounded particularly smug, to Inks' ear. 

Inks just smiled and scratched the center line of his brow before hitting that one spot between his ears. "Yes yes you're amazing." She looked up and put on her most disarming smile. "Hello!"

The huddled group cowers. Inks can't really blame them. Maji is intimidating enough on a first impression if you're _not_ crouched below the level of his fangs. 

"Don't mind him!" She scratched his ears more. "I mean yes he's scary, but he'll only move if you do something untoward to me." She examined the wall-shrine, legitimately curious. "What's that?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Occult while they answer?)  
> ST: ((Diff 3))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks rolled 8, 4, 8, 2, 6, 1, 1, 4 for a compiled value of 2.  
> Inks: (wow)  
> 

If anything, this seemed to make them cower _more_. One of them - the one who'd been leading the ritual - tried to put himself protectively in front of the shrine, ignoring even Maji's warning growl to prevent Inks from getting a clear look at it. The others shrunk back, and one or two of them started darting glances at possible escape routes.

>   
> ST: ((Int+Lore, Diff 2))  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled 10, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 2, 9, 9, 10 for a compiled value of 6.  
> 

The Ragged, Inks thought. Hadn't they been a proper religious tradition once? And then... yes, sometime in the 680s, one of the past Despots had cracked down on them - hard. He'd outlawed their worship and they'd become the degenerate shamanistic tradition they are now; associated with vagrancy and crime.  
13:40 ST: ... aaaand she was an imperial sorcerer and had just interrupted one of their rituals with a giant tiger. Right. Whoops.

Inks winced. "Right. I'm sorry!" She bowed. "I'm just looking for information. I'm not intending to _do_ anything other than talk."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cha+Pres))  
> ST: ((Diff 3+1 from GIANT TIGER.))  
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks rolled 9, 7, 5, 7, 7, 8, 4, 9, 9, 5, 7, 10, 6, 9, 8, 2, 7 for a compiled value of 13.  
> Inks: (7+7+3 fromstyle)  
> ST: ((... impressive.))  
> 

Slowly, they settled down, convinced for the moment by her sincerity and the way Maji let her push him back a few paces with a fearless hand on his muzzle. He sat with another huff and started leisurely cleaning himself; deigning them unworthy of further attention.

The street-priest moved out of the way of the crude shrine, and spent a moment tending to it. It was fairly simple, honestly. A faded painting that Inks couldn't make out the details of, two incense holders with cheap sticks in them, a tarnished silver bowl and a damp patch on the ground that looked like they'd spilled precious water onto the ground as a sacrifice.

Satisfied with his place of worship, the street-priest turned back to her. "Milady sorcerer," he muttered. "Just an honouring. We can move on - we were almost finished." 

"Honestly I'm not worried about that. I'm not strictly beholden to the Despot's ideology. That being said, there have been a recent rash of murders and violence, and the Ragged are a common factor." She winced. "I don't like calling you Ragged, so if you prefer another name please tell me. Anyway, if the investigation continues much further, your group will be a suspect, or used to draw the suspect out. I want to help _everybody_ win."

"We are the Children of the Desert Mother," the man replies warily. "You say... murders? And violence?" 

Inks nodded. "With an ironic twist of justice. The Despot wants blood for this, and I can't blame him- his citizens are being killed, and his position as always is tenuous. Yours is too." She paused. "I would rather not offer too much more in the way of details... but if you know of a being who wields a ringed prayer staff, I would like to speak with them at their earliest convenience..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (We're in an enclosed alley, more or less? Out of the way, out of sight?)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

Trailing off, Inks slowly stepped forward and offered the priest a reassuring smile. Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips against the faded shrine-painting. Attempting her trick without tools was always a bit strange, but far be it from her to deny these men and women their faith. Where her fingers touched, the paint and canvas changed, bold, bright and new.

>   
> Inks: (Crack-Mending Technique).  
> Inks: (I still have to roll, but I waive certain requirements)  
> ST: ((Oh _ho_. Heheh. Hmm.))  
> ST: ((Yeah, it's basically just faded from age and would be a task of several hours. Diff 2 over a matter of minutes.))  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks rolled 3, 5, 2, 5, 4, 5, 6, 9, 6, 5 for a compiled value of 1.  
> Inks: (...I'm going to reorll that at penalty)  
> ST: ((... fair enough.))  
> Inks: (assume I spend 6m on 2nd excellency)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +2; Inks rolled 1, 10, 2, 7, 4, 2, 2, 8, 3, 7 for a compiled value of 7.  
> ST: ((... are we sure _this_ isn't Session 13?))  
> Inks: (heh)  
> 

Like the dawn light slowly illuminating the land at sunrise, the picture faded back into perfect condition. It was a slow transformation as rich colour bled back into faded paint and detail sprung out from smears and scratches, but when it was finished, it revealed a masterpiece.

The painting was of a desert oasis, and a woman - soft-eyed, with liquid hair that reminded Inks of her Mentor - standing atop it in robes of gold. The palm trees around the water were gold-leaved, and the woman - the goddess - held a golden-leaf fan in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. 

Inks smiled and fixed the image in her mind- more than enough to go on. "Glad I could help." She turned her smile to the priest and bowed. "I will leave you to your business, though please be careful." 

"W-wait!" the street-priest called behind her after a brief internal struggle. "I... I don't know who could be killing citizens. But I might know who you need to talk to, if you want to find out."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I think we can start wrapping up here, but this was a really good, meaty session)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I need to do some mechanics work. End on that note?))  
> Inks: (yep! XP?)  
> ST: ((5xp + 2mxp.))  
> Inks: How'd you feel about the session?  
> ST: Good! Got a lot of fun things into play, heheheh. Was originally going to have something else, but when it turned into CSI: Gem I decided to leave them for a later session.  
> Inks: Nice.  
> ST: You?  
> Inks: That reminds me, since the slaver gave me the artifact in exchange for an ally dot, is that dot defunct?  
> Inks: I'm legit surprised you killed him off  
> Inks: and I had a lot of fun. I liked that you tutorialized the familiar bond  
> Inks: with Maji.  
> Inks: I forgot it was even a thing.  
> ST: Inks is still beholden to the rest of the Sun Market council, whose real identities are a closely-guarded secret.  
> ST: but yeah, they're now down one member.  
> Inks: Oh, interesting  
> ST: And yeah, the fact that it was one of the Sun Market Council who got brutally murdered was part of why the Despot was _very unhappy_ about it.  
> Inks: yeah  
> 


	15. Session 15: Giant Tiger Problems

Inks pauses and turns as the street-priest's words hang in the air. He seems conflicted, but nonetheless repeats himself. "If... if someone is murdering people, and you're the one set to investigate. I might know someone who can help you." 

"Anything would help, thank you." She smiled, both at the priest and the restored icon. 

He nodded jerkily and began to pack up his shrine, motioning his flock to disperse with the various bits and pieces. Probably to reduce the chances of the whole shrine being lost or stolen, Inks thought idly. The restored picture, the man stared at for another moment of fragile awe, before slipping it into his dirty robes and beckoning her to follow. 

"They have no connection to any murders," he explained as they traveled, "but there is someone with a staff like the one you described - someone who's helped us, and might help you. Here, here, this way. Down." 

He led her underground, below 6th Scorpion, into the maze of smaller tunnels that run off the Crown lava tubes. These weren't the expansive natural chambers that the great Bazaar is set in, they were rougher and more cramped; hollowed out by human artifice over many decades. Their direction was taking them roughly towards the crater rim, Inks thought - but then, underground, that meant a lot less. 

Maji followed, prowling silently despite his bulk and metal-shod paws. His head nudged her hip as they descended...

They came to a halt at a door that was hanging slightly off one hinge, and their guide knocked in a pattern Inks was fairly sure was coded. It swung open; another member of the Ragged on the other side, and the street-priest motioned Inks in.

"The room at the end, Ladyship," he said nervously. "Um. You swear you mean no harm?" 

"I swear- though I'll defend myself." She smiled disarmingly, while Maji gave the priest a fairly judgmental glare. Inks just laid a soothing hand on his snout and moved inside. She was no stranger to hovels and slum-towns. Places where the destitute eeked out a living in the understeets of a big city. The names changed, but the hunger stayed the same. 

Moving across, her lips turned down at the sight of the weak, malnourished, and injured. Today there was business to take care of, but tomorrow she'd do something about this. Reaching the room at the end, Inks knocked on the door. 

It was hot down here. The oppressive force of the beating sun was gone, and the small room and short corridor within the domicile were gloomy but for a candle in the antechamber, but it was stifled and clammy and thick with smells Inks didn't want to think too hard about. It must have been profoundly unpleasant to live in, though she herself was fine thanks to her bindi. 

A distracted sound came from behind the door she knocked on, along with the whispery mewl of a cat. It swung inward, revealing a figure sitting bent over a battered, three-legged table strewn with paper. Their gender was hard to place - they were clad head to toe in long, flowing robes and a veil, on which Inks recognized the equipment of an exorcist. A four-ringed khakkhara was propped up in one corner, and the probably-woman was absorbed in doing something with an ink brush and a strip of paper. 

Inks cleared her throat, raising a hand in greeting. "Hello?"

The figure's head snapped around, and most of the quiet dignity fled as - yes, that was a woman's voice - as she gave a startled squeak. The chair clattered to the floor as she sprang up on reflex, and then froze as she took in the gorgeous woman and enormous tiger blocking her office doorway. 

One hand - gloved, Inks noticed; this person really didn't have an inch of skin showing - went to the staff thoughtlessly, but the woman seemed to have suffered a bit of a mental shutdown at the sight of Inks in this squalid place; radiant and fresh and with Maji looming just behind her. His bulk filled the entire corridor without an inch of room to squeeze past. 

"It's alright! I was just hoping someone could help me- I was directed here by a nice gentleman outside." She raised her hands reassuringly, still smiling. She bid Maji to be... less Maji for a moment, to which the tiger made an impressive approximation of rolling his eyes. 

Having done that, the massive creature slumped down on the floor and yawned, bored now. Shaking her head, Inks turned back to the potential exorcist. "My name is Inks, and I'm among other things a doctor, sorcerer, and currently investigating a murder. I was told you might be able to help me." 

The woman made a few hesitant, aborted movements, then shook her head. "I not," she started, "Firetongue, my words not... good?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception+Linguistics to translate. Diff 3.))  
> 

Inks blinked at that, nodding. "Riverspeak?" She offered in that language- then "Word of the Old Realm?"

>   
> Inks: (Stunted per+ling, bonus?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: (Okay, per 5 + Ling 1, +3 autosux from 2nd excellency, +2 stunt die) 10 9 8 8 7 5 5 2; Six +3 sux, so threshold 6)  
> Inks: (9 total successes before difficulty. IIIINNNNKSSSS~)  
> 

With each language Inks names, the woman shakes her head again, her eyes shifting around the room. Even moving onto some of the more local dialects of Firetongue garner nothing but that mute headshake and a tighter grip on the staff.

It's only when she beckons Inks into the room with a few broken words that Inks gets it. The intonation on the clicks is too good; the broken grammar too forced, the gaps in her words aren't consistent. 

The woman in front of her is lying. She understands Firetongue perfectly, Inks would say. She's just pretending not to. 

Inks frowned, not quite able to disguise her confusion. "I'm sorry, but why are you trying to..." She shrugged helplessly. "I know you understand me, and I'm not here to do anything other than talk."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Cha+Presence to reassure her? Relevant for style- is she holding an intimacy of lust towards inks right now or no?)  
> ST: ((She is not. Oh, did Inks come sit down like she offered, or stay in the doorway?))  
> Inks: (Yes, let's say she did move in)  
> Inks: (Stunt bonus re: Presence roll?)  
> ST: ((1 die))  
> Inks: (cha2+pres4+Style3 +6 1st ex +1 stunt)  
> Inks: (13 sux. 12m spent so far in this scene)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((holy shit you actually punched clean through her MDV))  
> Inks: (And I don't even have the good solar charmtech yet)  
> ST: ((how many tens was that even))  
> Inks: (four 10s)  
> ST: ((christ)  
> 

For a horrible moment, Inks was _dead certain_ that the woman was going to run for it. And since there was only one exit, that would probably involve her using the business end of the staff she was still holding in a vice grip.

But she didn't. She flinched slightly, backed up even further into the corner of the poky room, and nodded minutely. "What do you want to know?" she whispered. 

"Lots of things." Inks offered with a glib smile. She took a seat, all calmness and grace. "But right now I'm trying to investigate a murder, and ideally ensure the culprit doesn't get caught by the Despot. He wants bloody justice, whereas I just want justice." 

She went on to explain the situation- the murders in broad strokes (as to ensure she wasn't giving away privileged or compromising information), the leads that brought her to this room, and her increasing interest in the Desert Mother. "Oh, but I'm being silly- I should have asked your name."

"If you're looking for justice, you can stop," the woman says in that same hoarse whisper. There's a faint rattling whistle to it that doesn't sound healthy. "Justice was what happened to them. And the Desert Mother vanished a long time ago." 

ST: ((Perception+Occult if Inks wants to take a glance at those papers she was writing, incidentally. Diff 3))

"Well, justice tends to be relative in places like Gem." Inks noted. "From what I heard of the victims, they certainly deserved something, but I see murders. I need to know more to say if they were justified or not." She chose not to ask about the Desert Mother just yet, but hummed. Was her voice the result of physical damage or something else...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diganosis on 'Is her voice medically relevant', Rolling for Papers)  
> Inks: (2 sux on papers, no dice)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

Inks' eye happened to fall on the papers scattered across the table, but upsidedown and sprawled out everywhere, she couldn't make out any of the details. It looked fairly advanced, though. If this woman was an exorcist like her robes suggested, she was a good one.

"Right now I'm just gathering information, and ideally, I can put a stop to the situations that led to the murders." She looked over at the woman, who had yet to give a name. "That's all I need right now."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Cha+Pres to convince her to talk to me. 6m on 1st pres. Stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice.))  
> Inks: (6 sux on 17d)  
> 

The woman just watched her. In the corridor beyond the doorway, Maji sniffed - and growled; a low, threatening rumble. Unable to turn in the cramped space enough to get through the door, he unsheathed his claws and took a swipe at the woman. It fell short, though the air from his massive paw set the candle flame on the table to a flickering dance that painted shifting shadows up and down the walls.

The veiled face didn't turn, but Inks could feel the shift of her source's attention move from her to Maji as the tension climbed. 

"Maji!" Inks frowned. "We're her guests and she's already frightened enough." She turned back to the exorcist, bowing in her seat. "I am sorry. I need help and I want to help you, if I can." 

"I have resources, the ear of the Despot, and great talents of my own- she bade the mark on her brow ignite. The glowing brand hovered above her forehead, oddly complimenting the bindi as she spoke.

It was a calculated risk, she knew, but one she felt comfortable making. 

But Maji didn't stop at Inks' warning. In fact, his growling turned into an bared-fangs snarl, and the walls shuddered as he thrashed in the tight corridor, swiping again. Inks could feel him in the back of her mind, his protective fire burning brighter than usual, gathering strength for something. Almost like his back paws kneading the ground before a jump or a pounce, but with a hot, fanged edge of essence to the feeling. 

The staff, which had been slowly slipping down, came back up. The metal rings on the end jingled - a sound that might be merry in some cases, but here sounded eerie and chilling.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can tell that Maji is worried for her safety for some reason, and is preparing to use Loom Stride.))  
> Inks: (Per Aware or Invest to detect the threat?)  
> ST: ((Per+Aware, Diff 4.))  
> Inks: (Spending a WP, 6d)  
> Inks: (2 sux, drat)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll me 3 dice.))  
> Inks: (3 sux)  
> ST: ((... really? Wow.))  
> 

Inks looked around the room in a panic. What was Maji so upset about? There was no threat here! Yes, the woman was holding her staff, but only because they'd invaded her space! She was on the defensive, the papers were inert, there was nobody else in here, no traps...

Perhaps it was her desperation, perhaps it was just a matter of how she'd already been touching Maji's mind. But a hammer of scent-memory slammed into her from her familiar's nose. The stench of the tunnels, the heat, the fiery feline musk that was Maji himself, her own perfume-sunlight-water scent, the flickering bite of the candle and dust and dry paper and the woman she was talking to. 

Who reeked of Death. 

"... are you a ghost?" Inks blinked.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can make an instant Wits+Medicine diagnosis roll at +1 circumstance dice to realize something relevant.))  
> Inks: (3 sux on wits+med)  
> 

Oh, she thought as something suddenly hit her. She felt a little like slapping herself in the head. That rattling whistle, of course. She /has/ heard that before. She'd just discounted it here because the woman wasn't bleeding out.

That's the sound of punctured lungs. Fatally punctured.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Incidentally, has Inks done anything to, uh, stop Maji from Loom Striding into the room and trying to bite the Dead thing's head off?))  
> Inks: (Not specifically yet, but thank you for prompting me).  
> ST: ((I thought I better before having him displace the table and attack.))  
> ST: ((Because he is very much still intending to do that in a few more seconds.))  
> 

Inks: With the thunderbolt realization, Inks moved, throwing her arms around Maji's neck and at the same time, half-sliding to his opposite side. Behind her familiar, she was 'safer', but at the same time she wanted him to calm down. "I'm alright. Nobody is threatening me here." She mumbled in to the nape of Maji's neck, lost in the ruffle of fur. "Shh... Shh..."

>   
> ST: ((Cha+Pre to calm him down. I'm... not sure what his MDV is?))  
> Inks: "I don't care that she's dead or whatever- she's a person and until I *know* she's done something wrong, I'm going to let her be!"   
> Inks: (WP5, Integ 2, Ess 3, so 5)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Roll Cha+Pre; two-dice stunt.))  
> Inks: (Got 4 sux, can I add a WP retroactively?)  
> Inks: (Even if not, I figure this is enough of a warning for exorcist to not die horribly)  
> ST: ((Sure.))  
> Inks: (Okay, 5 sux even. Does Maji calm down Y/N?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, MDV is a defense - you need to beat the score to get past it, not equal it.))  
> ST: ((So, uh))  
> ST: ((He hesitates long enough to give exorcist-chan warning, but no, he does not calm down.))  
> Inks: (That's fine)  
> 

But apparently, the close call at the palace put Maji's nerves on edge, and faced with a Dead creature in proximity to his human he has no intention of staying out in the corridor. There's a discontinuity; a feeling like the weave of the world has stuttered.

And then there's an angry, roaring tiger in the room, swiping a shovel-sized, knife-clawed paw at the exorcist's head.  
  


>   
> ST: ((gimme a mo to just compare values...))  
> ST: ((... holy shit Maji, _8 successes on your attack roll, what the fuck?_ ))  
> Inks: (Great Tiger is Great)  
> ST: ((I'm laughing here. Holy shit.))  
> 

The woman reacts in an instant, bringing her staff around in a brutal parry - but the sheer _mass_ of Maji's swipe bulls straight through it and catches her full in the face, tearing her veil off and sending blood spraying across the wall. Inks has a split-second glimpse of a dark, shocked face that's half bloody ruin as the exorcist is sent hurtling past her into the corridor by the force behind the blow.

Somehow, though, she's up as soon as she bounces off the wall, and out of sight along the corridor far, _far_ too quickly to be natural. A mortal would have been left unconscious and in circulatory shock by those terrible rents and that impact, if not outright dead. _This_ woman is all the way down the corridor by the time Inks gets her head around the door, a trail of blood drops marking the ground behind her. 

... ooo, she thinks with a wince. She'd promised the Ragged no violence. This probably wasn't going to look good.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Exorcist is fleeing. Maji can't pursue; will Inks?))  
> ST: ((literally what the fuck. 8 successes on 6 dice.))  
> ST: ((*takes plans*))  
> ST: ((*dumps them out of the window*))  
> ST: ((*drops match on them*))  
> 

Fixing Maji with a curt look, she gave him a wordless order to smuggle himself into her tattoo, before darting after the woman. "Sonnova-" She flexed a meager reserve of her Essence, lightening her step and vaulting across the stacked containers and rough rock of the tunnel wall.

>   
> Inks: (Graceful Crane Stance, hoping to get a speed boost from maneuverability.)  
> ST: ((Okay, so I think this is a foot chase. I... forget the foot chase rules. Hmm. What's Inks' Dash speed?))  
> Inks: (There is no foot chase rules, really. Normally this kind of thing is abstracted as a contested roll, an extended roll, or a contested extended roll.)  
> Inks: (To answer your question, Inks is Dex 2, so she moves 2yards/tick or 8/tick when dashing)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay, Roll me Dex+Athletics.))  
> Inks: (And, bluntly, Inks has a dex+ath pool of 3, and not enough motes to run an excellency just yet. She's currently at the caste mark level. Do I get motes back per roll?)  
> Inks: (Stunt, btw)  
> ST: ((Yeah, you're getting 2 dice per action.))  
> Inks: (So 2m/action and 2d/action, just for clarity.)  
> Inks: (Roll 1: 2sux on 5d)  
> ST: ((... her caste mark just gives her 2m/action. And we're doing this as a single contested roll.))  
> Inks: (Oh, okay, not extended)  
> ST: ((You can redo that roll if you want, or leave it.))  
> Inks: (I literally have no motes, I can burn my last conviction channel I guess.  
> Inks: (1 sux on 10d.)  
> Inks: (Well, in anycase, opponent rolls now)  
> ST: ((Rolling 9 dice; 5 sux.))  
> 

Inks did her best to pursue, but fell behind almost immediately. Not only was the woman _incredibly_ quick on her feet, she was also completely at home down here in the dark - and seemed to exhibit the same unnatural grace as Inks herself. A few rapid turns, and soon even the blood trail disappeared in a rabbit warren of tunnels.

The Ragged by the door was gone when she passed, Inks recalls, probably scared away by Maji's roar. It's not likely they'll be very talkative in the future, so now is probably the only chance she'll get to have a look at the woman's papers - not to mention the staff she dropped when Maji blew through her guard. 

Inks sighed, and she could feel Maji prowling across the clouds and scenery of her tattoo, vexed and irate. Alone for the moment, she turned back to the exorcist chambers and took stock. A nearby small jar was suitable to collect a blood sample, and she quickly and efficiently gathered up the papers. Giving them a quick scan now, she considered their purpose.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Occult on papers, stunt?)  
> ST: ((Int+Occult now that she has more time to go through them, which means she skips the -1 reroll penalty. 2 dice, Diff 3.))  
> Inks: (4 sux)  
> ST: ((Cool))  
> 

Yes, Inks thought. She'd been right. This woman _was_ good at her job. These were thaumaturgic charms that dealt with the Dead - and not all of them were arrayed against them, either. These ones over here, complete and... well, they'd probably been stacked neatly until a certain giant tiger had sent the table flying; they were denial wards that kept ghosts away - or in, if set around an area.

But these ones here, they allowed ghosts safe passage into areas outside their natural shadowlands, and made them more comfortable there. _These_ two seemed to be binding charms, and several that were written with a different sort of ink were intended to send the Dead to a peaceful rest in Lethe. A messy scrawl on some paper seemed to be an attempt at restoring the fullness of a ghost's senses, and... 

... oh my, Inks thought. The ones the woman had been working on were, as far as she could tell, intended to allow ghosts to materialize in the living world. 

And then there were the other papers. These weren't thaumaturgy - or even the business of an exorcist. It was a loose pile of notes on the Desert Mother of the Ragged. Apparently Inks wasn't the only one investigating her - indeed, this may have been why the street priest had brought her here; in the hopes of getting another ally in finding his lost goddess. 

There was no time to read them here and now, though. Inks could hear people coming. 

"Never ends..." Muttering that, Inks left as quitely as she could, back to her townhouse for a long, needed soak.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Is Maji going to get scolded?))  
> Inks: (Definitely)  
> Inks: (I guess I'll handle the scene change, it's her townhouse)  
> ST: ((Feel free to get the scene rolling, then.))  
> ST: ((Man, I thought for sure you'd visit her, get a few hints dropped and then she'd bolt the second you stopped blocking the door.))  
> Inks: (Heh. I'm gonna have a lot to say post session)  
> ST: ((I bet. : D))  
> ST: ((Open as you wish.))  
> 

* * *

Inks paced across her courtyard, and Maji, for his part, was as shamefaced and rightly so. "You were disrespectful, out of line, brazen, deplorably insensitive and you might have compromised a murder investigation." Inks huffed, puffed. Admittedly she was pretty sure Maji didn't understand the concept of 'murder', and she was as much talking to herself as her familiar... "I felt safe. I was not being threatened. I was telling you to stand down." 

She fixed her tiger with a look, and Maji had the decency to fold his paws over his face, morose. "You are my protector, my dear friend... but Maji, you are a giant tiger and I cannot solve all problems with _Giant Tiger_."

She exhaled harshly, and waved for Carsa to bring her a bottle of strong wine while she disrobed matter-of-factly. She was stepping into the pool when Carsa returned with a tray laden with glass and bottle. "Make sure Maji has dinner." She ordered quietly. "If he grumps at you-" She raised her voice so Maji would hear. "Tell me, and I'll straighten him out."

"Has something happened, ma'am?" Carsa asked, worried. 

Orders given, it was now relax-time. She poured herself a glass and downed it in one go, and then poured a second. That one she held in hand, ready to sip as she leaned back in the fragrant, ever-flowing waters. The soreness of the day seemed to fade, and she sighed. "I'm trying to solve a murder and keep the Despot from declaring bloody justice on the perpetrator. Ran into an exorcist-ghost I think with some fantastic plans." She hummed. 

Taking a sip, she turned her attention to the bath itself, watching the water ripple and bubble against her curves. The bottom of the pool had turned darker under the enchantments, taking on the character of the black jade, making it look deeper than it actually was. All around her, the magic woven by her hand was undeniably present, but oddly different than what she expected...

Carsa shivers and makes a superstitious gesture to ward off evil intent. "A ghost? Better you than me, ma'am. Did it curse you? Is that why lord Maji is so out of sorts?"

"No, I don't think she wanted to hurt me. Maji however smelled 'dead' and thought 'threat'." 

With a revelation regarding her baths on the edge of her mind, Inks set it aside in favor of further relaxation. The soreness faded, along with the stress. "I'm going to have to pick this up tomorrow..." 

"... if you say so, ma'am," Carsa agreed doubtfully. She shook her head as if to throw off the uncomfortable topic of the undead, and made a heroic and doomed effort to keep her eyes on Inks' face. "Is there anything else that needs doing?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Dammit Inks stop being a casually Awe 5 show-off.))  
> 

"Not particularly." She paused for a moment. "If I had not made it clear, you and the boys are welcome to use the bath, though be considerate of others when you do." She leaned back and let herself float, breathing quietly while the water buoyed her up.

>   
> Inks: (Dammit Inks stop making it worse)  
> Inks: (Of course, the real 'worse' step is where she builds a half-submerged massage table so a hot gal or hunky guy can rub her down...)  
> ST: ((Not going to tell her to put out an advertisement for an assistant?))  
> Inks: (I figured Inks was going to do that herself, unless Carsa has connections Ink doesn't know about. Of course, whynotboth.gif)  
> 

"Ah, there is one task- put word out I'm looking for a highly skilled personal assistant, the more exotic the better." She pulled her legs under her and knelt on one of the stones, raising her arms and stretching broadly with interlaced fingers. "I'll take over the search pretty soon, but you can put the official word out." She looked up at Carsa, smiling broadly. "Thank you."

"Ah, u-um, yes ma'am," Carsa stuttered. "Oh, a-and, um, there are..." She consulted a thin knotted cord made from several coloured strands, "... yes, uh, three people wanting to meet with you, ma'am. At your convenience. Um. One of them is, uh. Sahlak Janissa, ma'am."

Inks: "Oh?" She asked after the other two and made a few decisions on scheduling. "A head of house is priority. Draft a letter that I'll be meeting them first thing in the morning."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Janissa is the head of House Sahlak))  
> ST: ((Shall we call it there, and have The Three Visitors next session?))  
> ST: ((The other two are a prominent assayer who works for the Despot, and your friends Ajjim and Pesala.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> Inks: Whew  
> Inks: Thanks  
> ST: so  
> ST: um  
> ST: yes  
> ST: that was  
> ST: ...  
> ST: ... very unexpected  
> Inks: yeah  
> ST: Fuck, I thought that first scene would blow past quickly and we could get onto organizational stuff  
> ST: But then you blew through a _4-dot Principle boosted MDV_  
>  Inks: so, I do have to say that while *I'm* not really upset, I can tell you that it was a very... I think under a different situation, that whole thing with Maji would've caused me to flip the table.   
> ST: and then Maji got _8 fucking successes on a 6-dice attack roll_.  
> ST: Yeah, I was, uh  
> Inks: like, I'm game for it, but it's toeing a very fine line of 'Fuck the characters over with their backgrounds'.  
> ST: I was genuinely expecting you to calm him down, or for him to miss and get told off and maybe crack her composure a bit (or chase her off so we could move onto the search for Pepper and investigating the baths).  
> * Inks nods  
> Inks: I'm in an awkward position, I think, because I'm rapidly running into situations I don't have charms or even dots for. I felt very out of control in that discussion scene, even when I was rolling well.  
> ST: Mmm. Well, 6xp + 2mxp for roleplaying this session, before I forget.  
> Inks: Awesome, thanks  
> ST: If it helps any, I'm intending to steer things back into waters you're more suited to.  
> Inks: Well, I don't mind being challenged outside my competence, and I want to discuss it so that other people can understand the kind of challenges PCs and STs face  
> ST: Yeah  
> ST: I, um  
> Inks: like, in real-life practice, you don't GET to build toward an optimal path  
> ST: I guess at least you know Maji works as a bodyguard?  
> Inks: I'm having to play catchup here with Investigation  
> Inks: and to be fair, I like the idea of Inks being Super Investigator  
> ST: Heh. I had actually legit planned to just trap him in the corridor getting really agitated.  
> Inks: I getcha.  
> ST: But then I checked some of his stats and remembered he had Loom Stride  
> ST: and was like "shit, okay, I'll warn Inks in advance before he uses it"  
> Inks: yeah  
> ST: also, wow  
> ST: that is an effective charm for him  
> ST: because this is the exact kind of situation where you'd normally want him to use it  
> Inks: Aye.   
> ST: So yes, your current- actually I guess I'll see those presently.  
> Inks: no, go on  
> ST: ... I was going to ask "your current thoughts on Ghost Exorcist Gal?"  
> Inks: So far so good.  
> Inks: she *sounds* interesting, as far as a character goes, with complex goals and motivations. She's not a charaicture like a lot of ST-run ghosts.  
> ST: Well, I more meant "theories".  
> Inks: Ahh. WEll she sounds like a ghost, or maybe a Dragon of Another Color, possibly even Abyssal withsome kind of crippling injuries that she sustains somehow.  
> ST: hee  
> Inks: I'm reminded of Graves, from the tail end of SNG, the necro-exorcist who wore the disguse-armor and was in fact an adorably tiny twin-tailed neat freak  
> Inks: I'm pretty sure she's the one who 'murdered' those people, or at least was party to it during or after the fact  
> ST: "the necro-exorcist who wore the disguse-armor and was in fact an adorably tiny twin-tailed neat freak" That sounds... interesting.  
> Inks: The logs are buried on my other laptop, but basically she was introduced as this 9ft tall guy wearing necrotech armor and wanted to be left alone.   
> ST: lol  
> Inks: and then when he got assurances that the PCS weren't going to out his secrets, Graves stepped out of the armor and revealed that she was like, ridiculously cute and short, with twin-tails to her knees.  
> ST: Heh  
> Inks: When she used her moonshdaow oath to secure the PC's silence regarding her secrets, she huffed and muttered about cleaning up *all the blood*  
> Inks: Her acutal Job outside Abalone was running a creamtorium and contract exorcisism  
> ST: : P  
> ST: huh  
> ST: neat  
> Inks: She was a renegade Abyssal, for the record  
> Inks: Anyway, Sunlit Sands Exorcist gal is definitely looking interesting, and I really hope I Get to lock her down as an ally- she'd be super useful in figuring out El Galabi  
> ST: Hee hee. Indeed.  
> Inks: Hmm... So I think why the maji stuff worked as well as it did  
> Inks: was that you relied firmly on rolls and randomness  
> ST: And was approximately as surprised as you were?  
> Inks: not background plot to mess things up. It didn't feel railroady, but it was still somewhat frustrating because I lacked the tools to control the situation  
> ST: Yeah.  
> Inks: Fundamentally, players abhor lack of control.   
> ST: Don't I know it. ¬_¬  
> ST: Hmm  
> ST: Do you feel like I swung too hard over to the side of Maji being the "unreasonable side / gatekeeper / overprotective bodyguard" for Inks?  
> * Inks wonders why your text is now green...  
> Inks: I'm using hexchat right now, not mirc, so it's different  
> Inks: anyway, it *Did* come somewhat out of nowhere, and I think...  
> Inks: You're treating Maji as having much more agency than I expected, because I'm used to a character's Backgrounds not 'blowing up in their faces'.  
> Inks: its more of a stylistic question than anything. Do you remember Lotus's challenge banner?  
> ST: Mmm. I'm still feeling out the right balance for him between being a character and a... I hate to say "tool", but you get my point?  
> ST: I do, yes  
> ST: "fight with me or against me, just fight!"  
> Inks: No that was the betl i made. Her banner was more 'New Challengers Every YEar'  
> Inks: Yeah. Okay so basically the challenge banner had a very clear condition or function on when it would 'break' and interject on the player's time.  
> Inks: A better example would be an ARtifact with a Reputation, or how Manses are meant to be fought over. Things happen TO backgrounds, not Backgrounds Happen to Other Things.  
> Inks: Maji being a character though makes this interaction more complex. It's not a bad thing  
> Inks: and I like that he HAS a character.  
> Inks: Like... if there was another character who was constantly on screen and had a good dynamic, Maji would be more 'tool like', because Inks doesn't need to play off her silent tiger  
> ST: yeah  
> Inks: but since MAji *is* her constant companion, it better suits the game for him to have opinions, drives and to make mistakes as well as succeed at things.  
> ST: in large part it's the same reason why Keris's souls turned up; the need for someone to bounce a lone player character off  
> Inks: part of why i'm looking forward to 'Pepper' as well is for that same reason, but not to the exclusion of Maji.  
> ST: Yes  
> ST: ... remind me to build her sheet over the weekend.  
> Inks: Now, that whole thing aside, I liked a lot of the descriptions, and enjoyed a lot of the interactions. Carsa continues to be fun.  
> ST: you are teasing that poor girl something awful  
> Inks: I'm not sure of the last downtime chunk, but the next one is definitely going to involve training Inks's immediate staff.  
> Inks: Dang, as per HR doc, attributes cost 9xp each  
> Inks: I reallyneed Inks to be Cha 3-4 for concept reasons too...  
> ST: where are you atm, xp-wise?  
> Inks: 2 banked/22 earned Mortal XP. 6 banked / 76 earned Enlightened, 4/15 Sorcerous  
> Inks: I don't really need *more* xp, (Well, I always do), but like i said earlier, I'm being pulled into a lot of low competency directions and have to choose to either go deep or go wide  
> ST: Yup.  
> Inks: Also note that Maji has 1st Dex and Str  
> ST: Mmm. For bookkeeping reasons, I'd honestly rather fold those into just being high base scores  
> Inks: Fair enough, if we ever run proper combat, I'd control/stunt for Maji  
> 


	16. Session 16: A Many Meetings Part 1

The day before had been... a bit less successful than Inks had hoped it would be. However, she'd got some valuable information out of it, including a sheaf of notes on the Desert Mother that she had yet to look through properly. And today was looking interesting!

She had not one, not two, but _three_ visitors asking for an audience with her. One of them a head of House, even! She'd had Carsa inform Sahlak Janissa that she'd be able to meet early in the morning - and that left a lunch and afternoon slot open for her other two visitors; some assayer of the Despot's and her friends from the Sun Market.

Refreshed, relaxed and with an eye towards success, Inks waited at her courtyard table, laden with fresh fruit and other succulent treats. Dressed with an eye towards casual grace and comfort in gauzy white silk with light-weight, braided chains of gold at the hems, she was the picture of lavish decadence. She had no clock, but a merest hint of effort told her the position of the sun in the sky.

Ateli showed some clever initiative by keeping a lookout, and the door of the townhouse swung open right on time to admit the head-of-house before she even needed to knock. Her bodyguards followed her in - exchanging mutual sizing-each-other-up looks with Inks' own house guards - and stood watch as Sahlak Janissa headed into the courtyard and the baths there.

She was gorgeous. Inks had heard that Janissa was in her fifties, but had she not already known she'd have assumed the older woman was less than a decade her own senior. Her amber eyes were free of wrinkles, her raven hair held not a single hint of grey - though red highlights graced it as it fell freely down her back - and she moved with the sublime grace of a dancer. Her reputation as one of the greatest beauties of Gem was definitely well-deserved.

Janissa shucked her white outer-robe as she entered the courtyard, passing it to Carsa with a smile and revealing... not all that much on under it, to be honest. The necessary nods to modesty had been made, but there was a lot of skin on display - which had been painted in intricate winding patterns with what looked like gold leaf and crushed glowstone. It must have taken hours, and cost a small fortune. Swaying over to the table, she leaned over it to press a kiss to Inks' cheeks.

"Madame Inks," she said. "Darling; after all your dealings with my House, it really is shameful that it's taken us so long to meet. I do apologize for the oversight. How does the day find you?"  
  


>   
> ST: !ex; ST: [9, 7, 3, 9, 7, 6, 3, 4, 7, 4, 9, 7] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> ST: (("Making a good first impression and charming Inks".))  
> Inks: (Alright, Inks is Ess 3 WP 10 Integ 2, so 15/2 rounded down = DMDV 7. I'm going to let it through because why not, but I _could_ have resisted it.)  
> 

All smiles and cheer, Inks pressed her lips against the other woman's cheek in reply, laughing. "Of course- we're both so fantastically busy though. Today is just starting, but it's already going quite well!"

Taking her seat while Janissa took her own, Inks offered her the choice of the table, along with whatever refreshment she could conceivably offer. Her manners were a bit unpolished, but refreshingly blunt. "So! What brings you here today?"

"Beyond the pleasure of meeting you?" Janissa gestured to the baths. "Your new luxury is hardly a secret, dear. And I've been told you were graced by a sign of favour from on high as you made it! I simply had to come and see - and I must say, I find myself a little envious."

Inks laughed. "Well by all means, enjoy!" The imposition really wasn't much of one, but she had to clarify a few things. "I will have some other guests coming by, if you prefer privacy, I'll meet with them in my offices." While she said that, Inks mulled over the woman's demeanor, her purpose here.  
  


>   
> Inks: (per+invest on Janissa's motives please. Stunt~?)  
> ST: ((2 dice; go for it.))  
> Inks: (Adding in 3 dice from Artful Deduction Style, +2base +1 novice perk.)  
> Inks: !ex; Inks: [8, 1, 2, 10, 4, 3, 4, 2, 6, 5, 3, 2, 10] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

Janissa was wonderful company - pleasant, charming, witty and beautiful. Inks knew better than to believe the surface charm and forget the mind behind it. For all her frippery and vanity, the woman was a head of House - and had ruled House Sahlak for two decades with barely a tremor in her powerbase. You didn't manage that by being vapid.

Yes, she was definitely here for _something_ beyond a simple hello... but what, Inks couldn't determine. Janissa's poker face was perfect; whatever she was thinking behind the flow of conversation concealed completely behind practiced grace and artful beauty.  
  


>   
> ST: ((You can roll Wits+Socialize at -1 to guess at her possible motives if you want.))  
> Inks: (Which is all of 3 dice)  
> Inks: (too risky, would botch)  
> ST: ((Fair enough then. Hmm. Does Inks want to make any case or present any offers to Janissa?))  
> 

Watching Janissa wade into the everflowing waters, Inks let out a bemused snort. She never wanted or needed an excuse to use them as well. Striding purposefully across the courtyard, she let her own dress fall off and joined the house head, smiling. Leaning back against a carefully selected, curved stone, Inks hummed. "So, what do you think about education?"

"Mmm? Of whom?" Janissa responds, turning and raising her eyebrows. "Oh my. I'd heard of your body art, but it really is quite lovely to see in person. May I?" She reaches out to trace the colours down Inks' collarbone. "Who did this masterpiece for you?"

"Well generally everyone, but specifically members of your house or employees." She smiled disarmingly. "And of course- a great and mischievous sage-artist did this. My teacher, Alakanada. She's a Lesser Elemental Dragon of Water."

"Incredible," Janissa breathes. "And to have such a tutor at such a young age... ah, but I suppose she chose a canvas equal in beauty to her art, no?" Her hand drifts lower; her expression turning inviting.

A smirk crossed Inks's face, and she gently seized the wandering hand. Then, in a strong and decisive move, Inks pulled the other woman around until she was pinned against the rock. Bringing her lips close to the woman's ear. "One could say so." She whispered. "And one could stop. asking. _questions~_ "  
  


>   
> ST: ((hmm))  
> ST: ((Roll me... let's see, heh... Appearance+Performance, I guess. Ah, the eternal question of which Ability governs the bedroom. You can substitute another pool if you want to justify it.))  
> Inks: (Presence, because single target and Inks only has 0 Performance. plus I can use Sexy Stunner Style)  
> ST: ((Fair enough; go for it.))  
> Inks: (Okay, app 5 pres 4 +3 style, +4 excellency autosux, +1 style success)  
> Inks: !ex+5; Inks: [5, 1, 8, 9, 8, 8, 2, 6, 3, 7, 1, 10] was rolled for successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Janissa rolls a base+style pool of 10 + 2 tool dice from her body art and a few items she brought along. She also adds 4 more dice via magic - Inks may notice that yes, she seems to have divine blood.))  
> ST: !ex 16; ST: [8, 7, 6, 8, 2, 8, 6, 9, 9, 5, 9, 1, 1, 9, 6, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> ST: ((Question - does Inks have any form of mental defense or way to sense UMI?))  
> Inks: (Just integ 2. This is the first real 'social' challenge she's faced in game)  
> ST: ((Then yeah, as they make their goodbyes, Janissa is using a spirit charm to induce an Emotion of "Fond Longing" - Inks can reject it for 1wp if she chooses.))  
> Inks: (Hmm. it's just a mundane emotion after the fact, yeah? I can spend a scene addressing it, instead of spending WP/limit)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Cool, then...))  
> 

* * *

It's a few hours later that they made their goodbyes; Janissa pressing another kiss to both of Inks' cheeks and inviting her to several Sahlak-hosted events in Red Stone over the next month that would give them the chance to see one another again. Inks was fairly sure that she had made more of an impression on Janissa than the other way around - she could definitely see a few cracks in that implacable composure - but own her knees were still a little weak as she watched her visitor sashay away.

ST: ((Note the fondness if you wish, and specify which of her two remaining visitors is booked next.))  
Inks: (Auditor is next)

Her next visitor was a prominent assayer who worked for the Despot; Hinna an-Reswah. Inks... actually, Inks wasn't sure why this woman wanted to meet her. She no longer made any gems, so it couldn't be to do with appraising the quality of her wares, and if it was related to the hepatizon the Despot would probably have notified her about it himself.

Maybe she was just curious as to the process by which Inks had been making jewels from nothing?

ST: ((Where is Maji, incidentally? His usual place in the courtyard, or banished to a room?))  
Inks: (For now the courtyard)

Regardless, Inks was sitting next to Maji - still in disgrace and denied his favorite resting place on the bath rocks - and deciding what to have for lunch when the next knock on the door came. Somewhat early, if she had the time right. She heard the faint sounds of Atiya and Carsa in the foyer before a woman emerged into the courtyard.

A woman who... was probably not Hinna an-Reswah. To start with, she was clearly not Southern - her skin was a tanned nut-brown that spoke more of the West, and her eyes were the bright blue of the sky. Her hair was tightly bound back into a nest of braids, but that didn't obscure the frosting in it - white highlights that looked like the foam on wind-whipped waves.

She was also being trailed by a slightly helpless-looking Carsa, who seemed fairly sure she wasn't meant to be here but unwilling to outright tell her to get lost.

"Are you the Lady Inks?" the new woman asked. For all that she looked Western, her accent was flawless Firetongue.

"I am." Inks cocked her head to one side, then the other. "Might I ask your name?"

"Ceae Pipera," she said. "You need an assistant and project manager. I'm the one who you should hire."

Oho. Well that was a bold claim. Inks smiled broadly. "Alright..."  
  


>   
> Inks:(Hai Pepper!)  
> 

Pipera strode closer, taking a seat opposite Inks. "First of all," she said. "You need someone to manage your projects. Desperately. You've committed yourself in half a dozen different directions, and at least one of your projects is running with virtually no oversight. You put out word that you wanted an assistant yesterday, which means _you've_ realized that as well."

"Um," said Carsa. Pipera favoured her with a patient look, but nothing else seemed forthcoming.

"Secondly, I come with references," she continued after a moment. "I've been traveling up and down the Firepeak Pave for the better part of four years, working for trade organizations and caravan-masters; sorting out their affairs and setting their accounts in order. I am good at my work - and it's left me with contacts all the way up to the Lap. And thirdly..."

"Um," said Carsa again. "Milady, your... next booked visitor will be here soon." The 'so this one is in the way' goes unspoken but not unheard.  
Pipera turns to Inks brusquely. "I apologize - I didn't realize you had another meeting. Shall I return later?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks doesn't have time for another meeting today, so:))  
> ST: ((She can either reschedule Hinna, reschedule Pesala and Ajjim, or have Pipera come back another day. And incidentally; Perception+Occult; Diff 2.))  
> ST: ((so Inks has identified Pipera as a DB; probably an Air-Aspect.))  
> 

Pipera turns to Inks brusquely. "I apologise - I didn't realize you had another meeting. Shall I return later?"

"I think that would be ideal- but you've already made a pretty solid case for yourself." Inks smiled, shining and impressed. "There is a particular tome of sorcerous lore I'm interested, by name of The Scutum Magicae. Acquire a copy or at the very least find someone who has it. I will of course pay you for this task." She lifted her chin, humming. "Don't pick a fight I can't afford, other than that, this is your test."

"In the meantime, I would be happy to have you come back tommorow, I have two other meetings today."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Do I still have to reschedule, or no?)  
> ST: ((Theoretically no, but hang on while I check something...))  
> 

Pipera smiled. "This would be one of the ones you put out feelers for last year, yes? I thought you might be interested in it. There are no copies in the city at the moment, but there is one in the possession of a vendor in Ramabar Minah who I've had dealings with in the past."

ST: ((DBs have magic that let them tell what the perfect gift for someone would be~))

"Excellent." Inks waved a hand and Carsa hurried on the unspoke cue, darting off to her office and returning with a bank draft. Inks wrote out an amount and signed it with a speedy flourish. "Your budget for this task. If you bring the book to me, I will pay you the same amount again. We can discuss proper employment then."

"You may of course keep whatever you don't use from the budget-" she added.

Somewhat impressively; Pipera's eyes staying fixed on Inks' face as she nodded. "As you say."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception + Socialize))  
> ST: ((Diff 3))  
> Inks: (6d +3 autosux)  
> Inks: (4 successes rolled +3 from 2nd excellency)  
> 

Something in the woman's stance - a certain smugness - made Inks suspect that the book was in fact already on its way. Obviously Pipera had done her research before coming, and somehow she'd _known_ that Inks would want that tome.

Inks cocked her head to one side, and pulled out a second bank draft, filling it out the same as the first. "Or I could just save us the trouble and pay you now. The book will be here soon, I gather." She smiled, despite the dry tone. "Well, feel free to stay for my next meeting then, if you plan on being my personal assistant. We'll discuss the particulars of your employment later."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Sneaky ST is Sneaky~)  
> ST: ((Hah. I was worried I wasn't going to get to drop this bit of interest. Per+Socialize again to read her body language. Diff 2.))  
> Inks: (6d+2sux; ... I rolled 6 successes)  
> ST: ((lawl))  
> 

"I have a contract drafted, if you're interested," Pipera said, and oh, wasn't _that_ interesting? She was getting defensive. Or... perhaps "guarded" was a better term. Whatever was in this contract, she was prepared for Inks to react badly to it. But it didn't look like she expected _violence_ , exactly - apart from anything else, she didn't seem to be armed and had brought no guards.

Inks nodded and gave the document a quick but thorough skim. She held the paper up so she could glance at the clauses at the same time as the woman who wrote it. "You are delightfully efficient..." She hummed, eyes darting from line to line. A bit of scratch paper was hastily filled with notes- she wasn't ready to just mark up the woman's contract yet.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int/Per+Bur on the document?, stunt?)  
> ST: ((Okay, so here you're going to have to make a choice between going through the document enough to catch what's in it, or entertaining your next visitor, who's about to arrive.))  
> Inks: (Interesting...)  
> Inks: (Okay, I'll meet with the assayer, typan!)  
> 

Handing the contract back to Pipera, Inks nodded. "I have not signed it yet, but like I said, you're welcome to stay for the moment. Ask Carsa if you need anything. And don't mind Maji if he spots you."

>   
> Inks: (My rationale is that Pipera is trying really hard to get hired, so she's not going to snub me for taking the time to do it right. If she's as knowledgeable about Inks as I think, she knows that Inks is fairly moral, and doesn't cheat people.)  
> ST: ((Just to clarify; that means Inks hasn't had a chance to go through it and look for whatever's making her so on-edge yet.))  
> ST: ((though yes, that's a fair rationale))  
> Inks: (Fair enough! I think we can carry on if you can. I mean, I would like the chance to read it before signing it, is all, and I can't do that today.)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I getcha. Hmm.))  
> Inks: (Suggestion- introduce Hinna and give me a sort of broad stroke 'why is she here' as part of her arrival)  
> Inks: (and that way I can have time to mull over the 'topic' she's bringing here.)  
> Inks: (then you can pause the session again and we're finished for the day)  
> ST: ((... I guess I can't pass up the opportunity to leave you on a cliffhanger))  
> 

* * *

"Ma'am..." Carsa interjected; now actively fretting, and Pipera bowed out with grace, retrieving her drafted contract. "I'll give you some privacy," she said, retiring to one of the side rooms around the central courtyard.

It was good timing, because Inks' second - or perhaps third, now - guest of the day had arrived while they were speaking. Hinna an-Reswah was a woman in her late thirties, with loose green and blue garments and an intricate, beautiful decorative golden bindi covering most of her forehead.

Inks' sharp eyes picked out the signs of an extensive regime of makeup - and probably hair dye - that hid the crows feet and streaks of grey that must be there, but for all the effort she must have put into it; Hinna still couldn't compare to Sahlak Janissa, much less Inks herself.

She carried a loose bag of scrolls and a locked metal case of the sort that were used to transport precious jewels and the like between vaults, and set both down as she took her seat.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Per+Awa for Maji))  
> Inks: (6d;2 sux)  
> 

Maji turned his head away, huffing irritably and twitching his muzzle before resorting to a paw over his mouth. Evidently the scent of whatever alchemical powders and lotions Hinna used irritated his sensitive nose.

"Greetings!" Inks stood, smiling. "I'm glad I could see you today. What brings you here?"

By contrast to the other smiles Inks has seen today - Janissa's seductive informality and Pipera's faintly smug professionalism - Hinna's is razor-sharp and without humour. "Greetings, Lady Inks," she said. "I've come to ask a favour - but before I do; a boon. You are an Imperial Sorceress. May I see your seal?"  
:13:19 Inks: Nodding, Inks moved to retrieve it, returning quickly and with grace. "I am, yes."

Hinna examines it carefully, before fixing her eyes on Inks. "What I am about to show you is a secret known only to the Despot and a handful of his trusted staff. I trust I can count on your discretion, as a woman of honour..."

She paused, reached into her robes, and drew out something. Somehow round, and bejewelled, and startlingly familiar.

"... and as a kindred spirit," she finished, setting _another seal_ down on the table opposite Inks. The two pulsed for a moment, glowing faintly as they recognized one another, before settling back into a resting state.  
  


>   
> ST: ((: 3))  
> ST: ((Aaaaand I think we can pause on that.))  
> Inks: (I remember analyzing the seal and it was some kind of magical RFID tag?)  
> ST: ((Indeed. The fact that yours reacted means this one is legit.))  
> ST: ((A _fifth_ sorcerer in Gem. One that isn't publicly known.))  
> Inks: (Nice!)  
> ST: So, thoughts?  
> Inks: I enjoyed it, I was surprised (in a good way) by how you were up-selling Pipera's competence  
> ST: heh  
> Inks: It reminded me of a sort of... 'Already done for you' puzzle example like in tutorials or in infomercials, heh  
> ST: I planned for her to have used that ability before we even started the session  
> ST: : 3  
> Inks: yeah, it was a good one  
> Inks: I was passively using Whirling Brush Method myself  
> Inks: XP?  
> ST: 5xp+1mxp  
> Inks: anyway, i had fun!  
> ST: ^_^  
> 


	17. Session 17: A Many Meetings Part 2

The seal of an Imperial Sorcerer glimmered cheerful grandeur on the table. It was only the second time Inks has seen two of them close to one another - and Celi's had been mixed in among other necklaces and adornments.

Inks let out a low whistle. "Clearly you have business." She inclined her head to the woman across the table. "Let's not talk around it, if we can."

"Your blessing." Hinna pointed at Inks' forehead. "The mark of the sun on your forehead. Before anything more, I want to see it. That's the favour I came to ask."

"Oh- Sure." She'd been employing her arete a little bit earlier, so letting her inner reserve loose wasn't a bad idea anyway. She let the shining brand light up, pushing through her hair and hover over her brow- a shining golden disk of light with a half-circle cut out of the bottom. "I'm a Twilight- Copper Spider or 'Unclean' if you know anything about Immaculate dogma..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Soc, Diff 4))  
> Inks: I don't think the sun-queen style applies here, does it?)  
> ST: ((no))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +1; Inks: [3, 6, 10, 5, 2, 2] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Hinna's eyes fastened hungrily on the glowing brand with something that looked a little like awe - which was mildly odd, since Inks hadn't exactly kept her nature a secret here or been shy about flaring her caste mark in public. Maybe it was just being so close to it in person.

"We should collaborate," she said suddenly, after a several moments of entranced staring. "That is to say, I have many years of research - my own, and the records of my teacher. You are gifted, no doubt, in the raw power of the holy Sun," she made a praise-gesture of some sort; a quick three-part flicker of the fingers and a whispered syllable, "but you can no doubt use my knowledge - as I can undoubtedly learn from you."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm getting 'Cult of the Illuminated' vibes)  
> ST: (: 3)  
> 

"That sounds like an interesting idea- do you have any projects in mind, or was this just a 'get to know me' meeting?" Inks smiled openly, curious and a little concerned. She was herself nominally aware of the Sun as a focus of worship, but she'd not really thought about it herself *as a Solar*. Strange that.

"There were some experiments I had in mind - tell me, do you recognize this?" Hinna lifted the lockbox up onto the table and went about the process of opening it. It took three keys, one of which was disguised as a piece of her jewelery and another of which had a glimmer of thaumaturgy to it; but the security made sense when she selected a glowing chunk of gemstone from within.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Occult to identify the glowing thing; Diff 2))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [2, 10, 4, 8, 6, 6, 3, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

Most Gem citizens would have thought "glowstone", but Inks knew better. One, it was the wrong shade for yellow glowstone - a deeper and more golden shade that would require a very unlikely set of impurities to achieve. Two, it was the wrong texture and shape - glowstones were usually rounded and had an oily, waxy look to them, while this was sharply-faceted and seemed more like glass.

Third, and most obviously, it felt like her.

'Essence crystal', Inks identified. One full of trapped sunlight - which given the unstable nature of essence-containing crystals, meant that dropping it or hitting it with any force would probably make it go off like a miscast spell.

"I've not seen one like this before, but yes..." She looked up from the crystal to Hinna, curiosity plain on her face. "You found it, or made it?"

"I am an assayer for a reason," said Hinna with pride. "I made this, and spent a full season funneling sunlight into it - but it is still precious little to use. With your help, I could - _we_ could - study the nature of the Sun in far greater depth."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So it turns out that investigating the properties of Solar essence is fucking hard when you can't just produce the stuff by turning your forehead torch on. : P))  
> Inks: (Pfff. So I don't have to buy a charm to confirm anima light as natural sunlight either.)  
> ST: (Nah, that was an air-breathing mermaid of a charm, really.)  
> 

Nodding, Inks let out a pleased laugh. "I'm sure we can work something out- but you've kept a low profile so far. I assume you would rather collaborate quietly?"

"A wise choice," Hinna agreed. "The Despot prefers to keep me a secret - it's valuable to have a sorcerer others don't know about. But I couldn't pass up this opportunity."

"That sounds fine to me." She considered what to do for the moment, idly drumming her fingers on the table. "Draft an outline of your research and send it to me by courier or however you feel like. I'll give it a review and see how our schedules line up. Was there anything else you wanted to talk with me about?"

"A point of curiosity," Hinna said, very carefully putting the sunstone back in its padded resting place within the case and re-locking it. "When you arrived in Gem you began creating jewels from nothing. How was that done?"

"Oh- I exploited a particular quality of Okidaci- their skins are superheated and build up thick coats of stone and ceramic. When you add the right reagents, their skins make more exotic gemstones."  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [9, 3, 7, 9, 9, 1] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((... crap, should probably have rolled that in private. Oh well.))  
> 

Inks saw Hinna's eyes go briefly blank as she mentally inventoried her list of supernatural creatures, then widen. "The demon breed?" she asked.

"Demon of the First Circle, yes." Inks confirmed.

"I see..." Hinna nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you for that information. Until our research then, Lady Inks."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hinna was interesting so far! Now for tigerdad and daughter?)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Inks knows where they're staying and can send a runner to go invite them in, or she can spend a little while reviewing Pipera's contract and/or the Exorcist's notes first - though those might open new things for her to fill her afternoon with.))  
> Inks: (I'll review Pipera's contract, they're still coming in later on yes? Writing a stunt for it.)  
> ST: ((it has a few surprises in it~))  
> ST: ((hee))  
> 

* * *

After seeing Hinna out to the street, Inks sauntered back inside, giving Maji a good scratch- he'd been behaving himself today, so that was worth some attention. That done, she called Pipera back and asked for the contract. "I'd like to review it alone, before we negotiate terms." That finished, she settled down against Maji's side with the folder full of papers and read.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted. Bonus/Difficulty? AIming for int+bur)  
> ST: ((Int+Bur will do, yes, and 1-die stunt. Diff 2 to notice some of the more subtle oddities - the big stuff doesn't really need a roll. Threshold sux may help.))  
> Inks: !ex 9 +4; Inks: [7, 10, 1, 5, 1, 6, 3, 4, 2] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Inks' first intention of skimming through the whole contract from start to finish and then going through it more methodically on a second pass gets dragon-bolted barely a quarter of the way through. Her eyebrows rise, and then rise higher, until Maji is stirring in concern at the surprise she's feeling.

This certainly explains why Pipera was so defensive, at least. The _least_ odd of the contract's oddities is that nowhere in it is any requirement for Inks to actually _pay_ the woman - though there is a stipulation that she's not allowed to meddle with her investments or savings.

Apparently that's a sacrifice Pipera threw in to mollify the demands it makes on Inks, which are to combat the forces of the malevolent Dead "in all their forms, wherever they might intrude on Creation with intent to linger, claim territory or to pervert or destroy the institutions of the living". The language is clear, firm and absolutely seamless - if the Dead makes any move to try and take over or corrupt or even _influence_ the living world; Inks is to drop a hammer of sunlight on them. With prejudice.

This is a contract written by a woman who has reason to hate and fear the Underworld. And yet, from the _language_ in some of the passages... from the allowances it makes, from the way it promises obedience on Pipera's part to all but the vilest of atrocities... it looks like it's also been written by someone who at least half-believes the Immaculate Faith's stance on the Anathema. Someone who accepts that Inks might be - or _is_ \- a sun-stealing demon monster... but who is willing to work for her, as long as Inks is working against the Lords of Death.

Inks blinked once, twice. Well then. She reviewed the clause on the dead one more time- malevolent, good. She could still _trade_ with the Underworld so long as they were aboveboard...

"Hrmmm..." She made a few notes, before calling Pipera back. When she arrived, Inks stood and smiled. "Your contract was _interesting*..._ She shrugged helplessly. I'm still getting used to this idea that people think I'm some sun-stealing demon. _I_ thought that when it first happened to me." She drafted an additional clause on a separate piece of paper and showed it to Pipera- acknowledging that her employees are entitled a salary, and that as their employer Inks is not permitted to interfere with their savings or investments. "I admit I wasn't expecting the campaign against the dead- I thought you were running away from a marriage or something simple." She grinned, winking.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I suppose we can call this a social stunt to reassure Pipera that we are not a horrible sun-stealing demon queen)  
> ST: ((Cha+Pres, then.))  
> Inks: (Winking counts as flirting so stunner style, cha 2 pres 4 +3 style +6 1st excellency, +1wp)  
> Inks: !ex 15 +1; Inks: [8, 1, 2, 4, 7, 6, 2, 10, 7, 6, 9, 6, 9, 1, 10, 4, 8 ] was rolled for 11 successes after all modifiers.  
> Inks: (11, oh yeaaaah)  
> 

Pipera's edgy, defensive expression flickered slightly, and her eyes dropped a little way down Inks before skittering away uncomfortably. Her smile was entirely without humour, but something in her seemed to soften nonetheless. "I was born in the West," she said. "My family - the Ceae fleet - were Kusaboin."

>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Int+Lore to see if she recognizes the name - she can explicitly invoke her Mentor, which in this case reduces the Diff from 6 to 3.))  
> Inks: (How does invoking my mentor work, just using her in the stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yeah; in that she may have talked about them or mentioned them.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha,thanks for reminding me of how to use 'Nanda)  
> 

To that question, Inks hummed. She was no historian, but she wasn't a slouch either. 'Nanda was more abreast of goings on throughout Creation, being both a spirit and sorcerer of some repute. The whole culture of occult science lent itself well to a complex web of information gathering. People shared _news_ , just not research. She considered the West, as a Direction, and admitted to herself that she just didn't know much about it.

She'd never even seen the Ocean, and only a bit of the Inland Sea...  
  


> Inks: [2, 4, 4, 1, 2, 3, 10, 9, 6, 4, 4] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

... but the Kusaboin; they rang a bell. Yes, now she remembered. 'Nanda had mentioned them in the same breath as the Guild - they were a trader-people on the western seas, tending towards the southern half. Her mentor rather liked them, and had spoken well of their nomadic lifestyle; never staying on land for more than a few days at a time. Also their ship decorations. She'd had quite a lot to say about those.

"We were traders - and good ones," Pipera went on. "I was going to be the next captain of our fleet. And then a few years ago, we saw what looked like a pod of whales bearing down on us at night, during a new moon. They weren't."

Her face was still and faintly horrible as she remembered. "There was someone commanding them - someone with a mark like yours on his forehead, but black. One of his creatures came up from underneath and _ate_ one of our ships, whole. I was the only survivor, as far as I know."

She shook herself out of the past. "So maybe you're a demon, maybe you're not, but one thing all the stories agree on is this: you're powerful, you grow in power fast, and the Dead don't like sunlight from you anymore than from him." She motions upwards. "As far as I'm concerned, a world ruled by golden sun-demons is better than one rotting under the hands of the Deathlords and the knights who serve them, so it doesn't matter which it is."

"Huh. Well..." Inks sort of stood there, jaw working but not quite getting a word out. "I want to... do something. Hug you... I'd almost rather not sign the contract." She held up a hand, giving the other woman a watery smile. I still want to work with you and you're definitely what I need as an assistant. Just..."

"Morally, ethically-" she waved the papers in her hand for emphasis. "This just complicates things... If you need assurances, we can work on that."

"If I thought you were the type to reign down destruction or indulge in petty cruelties, I wouldn't be here at all," said Pipera, still blinking away the fog of memory. "I heard about you in Antefar, a few months ago. So I decided to wait and see what you did, and so far there's been a notable lack of wars declared, coups attempted or demon lords let loose to terrorize the countryside. I'm not in need of assurance. But I do want that contract signed, so I can be sure of your actions should the real enemy rear its head."

Inks nodded. "If you hadn't heard, I've been aiming to reclaim El-Galabri..." She reached for the contract, appending the salary clause (It would be up to Pipera if she took it), and signed it with a flourish. "Thank you for hearing me out. Do you have a place in Gem, or would you like one of the rooms here in the townhouse? I work from home a lot."

Pipera appeared to give that some thought. "If much of your work is from home, it would probably be best for me to be here when it comes calling unexpectedly. I'll take a room."

"Excellent!" She smiled, before pointing at Maji, who was still behind her. "Maji, Grandson of a southern wargod. Ceae Pipera." She then waved Carsa over and introduced her head of house affairs. "Carsa keeps the place in order and runs herd on my staff. I hope the two of you will work well together. Also Pipera- you're free to use the bath whenever you feel like, though ask before joining someone."

With that, Inks moved to the table and started straightening things up for her next meeting...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Ajjim and Pesala?)  
> Inks: (Also don't think I didn't notice the Abyssal Teasing!)  
> 

* * *

Pipera retired with Carsa to select a room and go over Carsa's management of Inks' affairs up to to present, and Inks sent Ateli out to her favourite tigerman and tigergirl's lodgings in Scartoll to bring them over. It took them longer than she expected to arrive, niqab-wrapped and wearing desert garb, but Pesala wasted no time in yanking her headscarf off and bounding over to say hello to Maji once she was through the door.

Ajjim was a little more reserved; moving gingerly over to a chair and settling into it with some difficulty. "A thousand greetings," he said, bowing both to Inks and Maji, "I am glad to see you-" He cut off and sighed as a loud splash announced his daughter's fully-clothed introduction to the baths, and sighed wearily. "... well," he finished.

Inks nodded, before taking a moment to assess his body language and the thousand tells of the weary over the injured. "Glad to see you as well, honored Ajjim." She cocked her head to one side, humming.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis; Are his symptoms medically relevant Y/N)  
> ST: ((Y))  
> Inks: (If he accepts, flawless diagnosis as part of a 5 minute examination)  
> 

Standing smoothly, Inks walked around the table- "You're clearly unwell, may I take a look?" She offered him a sincere, reassuring grin.

He hesitated, glanced at Pesala and lowered his voice. "Perhaps in private?" he asked. "Though yes, I would appreciate that."

"Of course-" and Inks led him off to a side chamber. There, she went through the expert, professional process, and quickly ascertained to the extent of her ability, what was wrong.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So now, I either have full diagnosis and can treat it, or I realize that there is something that makes the malady undiagnosable, but I understand that I'm missing a piece)  
> 

ST: As soon as his niqab came off, Inks paled. He didn't just look unwell; he looked _awful_. His fur was falling out - his tiger-like head was half bald already - and there were raw-looking sores marching up his shoulder and neck. As she quickly had him strip to the waist; the origin became clear - the sores continued all the way down his right side, worsening as they went, and along his forearm and hand they became cancerous-looking boils with a greenish tinge.

She knew what this was. This was a malady of the demon realm - one of the worst in all of Hell, in fact. It wasn't well-established yet, and it wasn't as violent or spiteful as the books she'd read had described, but even so, she knew it.

Green Sun Wasting.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Morbidity 2, treatment is rare Res 4 medicines or outright magical healing - Diff 5 to gather with Survival. Morbidity increases as the infection worsens, but it looks like she's caught this pretty early - perhaps only in the first day or so that he's mechanically had it.))  
> 

"... shit." Inks whistled sharply for Ateli to retrieve poultices, bandages, any alchemical reagents she had to spare and to gather them up. The next step was to improvise an impromptu treatment room. "You're staying here until this has been treated." She ordered the tiger-man with a stern, no-nonsense look...

"It's bad, then?" he asked, but his fatalistic tone made it clear he already knew. "I shut it in a box when I realized it was where the sores were coming from, but they kept worsening..."

"Does your daughter about this?" She asked the question while contemplating the local suppliers of medicine. She did not want to throw around the Despot's backing. "It's pretty bad- but treatable. If you use my baths for the next few days, I should have more than enough time to figure out a more lasting treatment."

"She knows my hand was burnt by something I found in the desert," he said. "No more than that."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'd need 6 days without a tutor to learn Ailment-Rectifying Method. It's not contagious, is it?)  
> ST: ((No, but it might be worth asking where or what he got it from. It's not what you might call a common Creation illness.))  
> Inks: (Aye, that'll happen.)  
> 

"Alright- we're going to get those sores cleaned up." She gently took Ajjim by his injured wrist and pulled him out towards the Bath where Pesala was still cavorting. "Sweetie, you can stay in the bath, but I need to help your dad with those burns on his arm. I'm a doctor, so we can take care of this. Pipera!"

She called out to her new assistant, more than pleased. When she arrived, Inks rattled off a shopping list of rare medicines and tinctures- "See what you can find in Gem, sooner is better."

That done, Inks carefully led Ajjim, pants and all into the bath, wading in herself alongside. From there, she carefully cupped water in her hand, whispering a faint prayer of thanks to Venus as she dribbled the magically pure water over the sores and fur.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So mechanically, the bath negates sickness/wound penalties, so Ajjim can make whatever roll he needs to throw off the infection himself, or at least prevent it from getting worse. Assuming that it _can_. Is there a roll to be taken, or no?)  
> ST: ((Inks makes an Int+Med roll daily _if_ she has the treatment tools to shift it from Untreated to Treated Morbidity. Ajjim makes Stamina+Resistance rolls daily at a Difficulty of whichever Morbidity is used to, uh, not die, and slowly get better, and man, these core Disease rules are not very good.))  
> ST: ((But yes, he is lucky in that his pool is not being reduced by -4 from penalties.))  
> Inks: (So now the question is, does Inks have the treatment tools Y/N?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Inks has already made a Res 4 purchase this year and can't afford another one, so... roll me Pipera's Excellency-boosted Wits+Bureaucracy pool of 15 at Diff 4 to _find_ the medicines - succeeding on Diff 7 gets you them at a price Inks can afford.))  
> Inks: (Alright, I did send Pipera off for this purpose too, does that help at all?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, she's maxing out her pool on it.))  
> ST: ((First job for boss-lady~))  
> Inks: (can she spend a WP?)  
> ST: ((Oh, good point. Yes, she can.))  
> Inks: !ex 15 +1; Inks: [5, 7, 4, 2, 3, 8, 5, 3, 10, 8, 2, 2, 3, 1, 6] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Dang, just shy. Still we know they exist)  
> 

Pipera comes back with mixed news. She's found a viable source of the medicines Ajjim will need - sourced from the mountain lords to the west - but the asking price is more than Inks can strictly afford at the moment.

Inks frowned at that, having finished cleaning Ajjim's wounds, she sat down at the edge of the bath and pulled Pesala into her lap, brushing the tiger-girls' wet curls and humming an improvised little song. "Okay... We can work with that. Ajjim, you said something about a box you closed?" She fixed the older man with an intent look.

He gestures to the bag he brought with his good hand. "In there. The leaden box."

Pesala squirmed around to peer over at it. "The one you said I couldn't touch? What's going on? Why do you need medicines?" She looked up at Inks, wide-eyed and starting to look fearful. "What's wrong with Papi?"

Inks smiled down at the girl. "He's got a bad burn, but we're taking care of it. He has a dangerous job." She waved Maji over to keep an eye on Pesala while she pulled herself out of the bath, ignoring the wet silk clinging to her legs. Moving over to Ajjim's bag, she carefully eased the box out without opening it. It was... warm to the touch, or was that a trick of the late evening sun, she wasn't sure. Examining it with all Inks due caution, she considered just what sort of object could inflict Green Sun Wasting.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Occult on ze box)  
> ST: ((She'll need to open it and peek inside to see what it is; but Diff 3 if she does.))  
> 

"Hey Ajjim, how long did you have this thing uncovered before you realized what it was doing?"

He winced as he shifted around, and wobbled his good hand. "Perhaps a week. I thought it was just sunburn when it started - that was a day or two after I found it."

"Oh, okay." Having confirmed that she risked a quick peek, before slamming the thing shut.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per + OCcult, Diff 3, +2 stunt, +4 autosux.)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks: [3, 4, 7, 9, 9, 3, 8, 1, 4, 6] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (L-l-l-egendary~)  
> 

Strange, she thought. It was a lick of green flame the length of her palm - one that burnt without fuel, without even something to burn _on_. Ajjim must have had no idea what he'd stumbled across, wherever and however he found it, but Inks did. It reminded her a little of Hinna's sun-crystal. This was probably an essence token or hearthstone from some hellish manse or demesne - one that radiated its toxic power out to blight those around it.

It was also improperly shielded. The lead box was helping, and probably the only reason he was still alive, but she reckoned a little of the toxic light was still seeping through - it needed to be twice as thick to really contain the thing within it. And... oh, she _really_ hoped it hadn't been anywhere near Pesala for any length of time.

Inks frowned and shut the box. She waved Pipera over and discussed the particulars of securing an iron strongbox of the appropriate specifications, but for the moment, Ajjim's box was sufficient, so long as they didn't stay close for long. Moving over, she carefully knelt down next to Pesala and smiled. "Okay, so I just need to take a look at you..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis in examination mode, I assume Ajjim would tell her to cooperate)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (So, is she infected or no?)  
> 

Thankfully, Ajjim seems to have done a good job in keeping Pesala away from the box - or she simply hasn't been around it for very long. The worst ailment she's suffering is her sodden hair plastering itself stubbornly over her face and her ears being full of water.

Inks let out a sigh of relief. "Alright, so we can definitely treat your burns, Ajjim, and I'll see about getting a better container for your find. In the meantime..." She sat down at the edge of the bath and urged Pipera to come closer. "Mountain lords. What do you think they'd want in exchange for a price break? I can make masterwork jewerly, hepatizon goods..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Attempting to brainstorm something these Mountain Lords would want, not sure what pool to roll)  
> ST: ((Well, Inks could also get a loan from someone again, or something similar.))  
> Inks: (That's true; The question is, can Ajjim endure long enough for Inks to learn the right Charm, or does he need tools/medicine Now.)  
> ST: ((Hmm. This is a weakened form of GSW, so he's... probably making weekly rolls, rather than daily. The Morbidity is at 2 at the moment, so with Inks' help he's got a good chance of making it through the first week.))  
> ST: ((It's not going to be a _happy_ six days. But he probably won't die. Of course, "probably" isn't the same thing as "definitely", so it basically depends on how sure Inks wants to be.))  
> Inks: (How far away are these mountain lords anyway? Or do they have trade with Gem so travel time is irrelevant)  
> ST: ((They trade with Gem, and are probably about the same distance as El-Galabi - _but_ , they have a regular trade route with horse relays, so what took Inks and Ryabu a couple of weeks could probably be done in two or three days if she paid for a rush order.))  
> ST: ((Possibly as little as one.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so there's an actual advantage here... )  
> ST: ((She could probably get away with promising some Res 4-Res 5 jewelery, if she makes the negotiation roll.))  
> ST: ((Or turning those old signposts into weapons.))  
> Inks: (The jade ones?)  
> ST: ((The ones she got at the Sun Market, yeah.))  
> Inks: (I didn't know they were signposts, i never got around to repairing them or translating them)  
> Inks: (Or maybe I did repair them, but i know I didn't translate them)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((shitfuckgoddammit))  
> Inks: (Kek, it happens! Don't sweat it. It's not like I can read your mind. Your surprise is intact)  
> ST: ((excuse me while I go beat my head against a wall))  
> ST: ((ES, I know you are reading this once Inks posts it, and I know you are laughing at me, and you suck.))  
> 

Inks massaged her temples. "The fastest way would be to send an Infallible Messenger, not that I know if they have a sorcerer or not to reply..." She exhaled harshly. "Arrange for a courier- the best you can find." She drafted a message outlining her request and offering her own services within reason to the courts of the mountain lords. She was careful with her wording, uncomplicated and earnest. "I would appreciate a reply

Inks as soon as convenient. I am a Sorcerer and can reply with Infallible Messenger if you have similar capability." She signed with a flourish and improvised a wax seal- she needed to get an official one pretty soon, she figured. "There-"

"Ah," Pipera spoke up. "That might not be necessary."

"Huh?" 

Her assistant dipped a slight, modest bow. "I'm a daughter of the Air Dragon - I can command the winds to carry my voice to places far from me, and have them bring back the words of those I speak to. It's how I stay in touch with my contacts along the Pave."  
  


>   
> ST: ((She knows Wind-Carried Words and Voices on the Wind.))  
> Inks: (sexy.)  
> 

:03 * Inks blinked. "Remind me to... I don't know. Do something. Give you a bonus."

>   
> ST: ((Also very, very useful for the job she was doing before Inks.))  
> Inks: (We can conclude on that~)  
> ST: very well  
> ST: so, hmm  
> ST: what did you think of those two revelations? Pipera and Ajjim respectively?  
> Inks: I did not expect the abyssal teasing, or how far she'd come since then. I don't know how old Pipera is, so for all I know, she's like 70  
> ST: Hee. I'm really quite pleased with Pipera as a solution to "how do I give Inks a DB who'll be loyal, but at the same time Pepper-esque and prickly and in need of being won over?"  
> Inks: Ajjim was fun- I'm glad I got to use medicine.   
> Inks: I got the feeling over the past few sessions that this was a lot of 'Come To' Inks and as mentioned 'Done To'  
> Inks: bluntly, you write longer chunks of roleplaying/narration than I do, so I have a lot of 'sit back' happening on my end. You write well, but it's not fast?  
> Inks: not that you have to change, it's just worth noting.  
> ST: hmm. noted.  
> Inks: There's also a degree of lots of introduction/exposition. My plate is already pretty full with personal projects and now i'm seeing Hinna's research arc, the exorcist/murder plot, Ajjim having found a hell-source of some sort...  
> ST: and yes, Ajjim was basically designed as a Medicine challenge for Inks where his survival is genuinely uncertain because she doesn't have instant-cure charms yet, and will need to use her high medicine pools and expertise to help him pull through  
> ST: well, mm  
> ST: you can break down into pressing concerns and less pressing ones  
> Inks: it's not _bad_ , I mean  
> Inks: only the murder plot is really time sensitive  
> Inks: and in terms of actual 'in game time', this has been like what, 36 hours over 3-4 sessions?  
> ST: Yeah, this has kind of been a "stocking up on plot hooks" bit - I'll let you sort things out and Act and Do Things from here on out as timescales start stretching again. But, mm  
> ST: part of the nature of Creation, I feel, is that sometimes you do get several crises hitting you at once.  
> Inks: mind you, from a game tone perspective, i was getting kind of... complacent, almost.   
> ST: ... crises? crisises?  
> ST: w/e  
> Inks: so yeah, an upheaval was not unwelcome  
> Inks: it's just that careful balance of screen time is the thing.  
> ST: Yeah.  
> ST: well, I certainly look forward to your breakdown notes  
> Inks: aye. before I forget, XP?  
> ST: ah, yes  
> ST: let's go with, hmm, 5xp + 1mxp + 1Sxp from doing various occult knowledge things over the last stint of gametime  
> Inks: cool  
> Inks: I definitely think next session should try and punch us out of the 'talky' rut. It's not that I dislike talking or social challenges, but this was a lot of talking heads.  
> ST: yes. well, the ball is in your court  
> 


	18. Session 18: Mercantile Medicine

Pipera had seemed quite pleased with Inks' praise, and had flitted off to learn about the internal politics of the mountain lords while Inks decided on what exactly she was going to offer them - and how. 

Inks exhaled softly. "Okay..."

She eyed the seal of the Despot's authority on her table and considered it, before shaking her head- no. Not worth bothering the Despot over and he's still likely mad.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Amusingly you had Pipera leave and I kinda needed her Here)  
> Inks: (I'm sure though that when she returns, she'll be better able to execute my will)  
> ST: ((Well, this is also an opportunity for Inks to throw around ideas and possibly make some rolls to evaluate plans. Though you can stunt her coming back with some books on mountain lord politics to skim-read.))  
> Inks: (Legit.)  
> 

Now that she thought about it, Inks herself really only had a basic grasp of the Mountain Lords herself. Trusting Carsa to keep an eye on Ajjim and Pesala, Inks called for Maji and dressed for a quick visit to the Despot's palace. She needn't bother the man himself, but his court advisors would likely know better. A few polite questions accentuated by the cut of her dress armed her with a general overview of the Mountain Lords and their relationship to Gem. As far as Inks knew, the main interaction was that of food and trade...

>   
> Inks: (So that's just one stunt for the moment, I'm trying to better get Inks 'out' and away from her townhouse so we can show off more interesting environs/people, even if there's not a lot of dialog)  
> Inks: (So I'm thinking attr+invest or lore?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, let's go with, mm... Awe+Lore.))  
> Inks: (oh dear, that's a full 10d pool)  
> Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [9, 2, 2, 9, 6, 10, 5, 6, 1, 7, 9, 9, 8, 5, 8, 9, 6, 6, 9, 8, 6, 9] was rolled for 13 successes.  
> ST: ((haha wtf))  
> Inks: (1st lore~)  
> ST: ((y u always go for max exc spend~))  
> ST: ((how I meant 2 convey 13 sux of info... this is probably how ES feels about my hearing rolls))  
> ST: ((Okay, uh...))  
> ST: ((Nah, I got this.))  
> Inks: (Cool. Well, a suggestion- if you run out of Information, you can always implicitly funnel the extra successes into other advantages/flourishes. I'm saying this mostly for log-reader benefit too. Like she fosters a good relationship with her new contacts/gets a new Contact. Etc)  
> 

* * *

Inks got lucky. A few flirtatious questions to the slave who met her at the door - and a promise to the guards that Maji would behave; her familiar having stubbornly insisted on accompanying her to the palace - netted her the main ambassador between Gem and the Cotaxi peoples of the mountains.

Brushed Sand Salib was a portly, paler-than-average man with a reddened face, a receding hairline and an odour of pork that hung around him like a cloak. Inks found him unoccupied save for some routine checking over his ledgers, and a few smiles were enough to have him eagerly sharing what he knew. Despite his unassuming appearance, he was a wealth of knowledge about the mountain lords - though not one with a high opinion of them.

The Cotaxi lived in the Firepeaks west of Gem, he explained, where the soil was hyper-fertile and there was shade to be found. The valley systems had broken their people up into a fractured, valley-centric society of feuding lords who warred among themselves and only cooperated to some extent against outsiders. Much of his job seemed to be understanding the ever-shifting tangle of alliances and grudges, and exploiting it to get better food prices for the crops and cattle they sold the city.

When Inks turned the conversation to their culture, he was dismissive, but volunteered readily enough that they were a dramatic people, with a long tradition of elaborate plays and dances performed by masked and costumed figures. Such costumes were works of art - and displays of wealth - that honoured the volcano-gods they worshiped. The same spark that fueled their creative history made them proud, fiery and quick to take insult, though.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice.)  
> Inks: (Do I by chance have an overview of the existing alliances/big names? I don't need specifics, P just want to know if P can invoke that level of detail)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Inks knows the five or six major lords that Gem does business with.))  
> Inks: (Cool. Alright, thinking of my next move)  
> 

* * *

After thanking Salib, Inks moved back into Gem, meandering around as she gathered her thoughts. Along the way, she stopped at the Dream of Flesh and visited Sahlak Alham, mostly to see how things were going. She considered asking Ryabu about the Mountain Lords, but she was pretty sure he had a nationalist streak several miles wide, and was more of a militant mind.

She could take a loan- her credit was good in Gem, but it felt like a step backwards. The urge to be expedient and compassionate dueled with her more pragmatic side- owing money even to a reputable lender just rubbed her the wrong way, and she still hadn't fully paid Sulieman back, at least as far as she was concerned.

Taking a break at small foodstall at the Sunken Bazaar, Inks idly nibbled on a meat skewer. "Could I expand my Hepatizon forges...?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (So that meandered a lot, but it had good RPing; My 'roll' if i get one is something like 'can Inks expand her hepatizon production, either locally in Gem, or by export, to make up the cost of the medicine for Ajjim?)  
> Inks: (Included in that consideration is how the Despot would feel about trading the material)  
> ST: ((Not with any speed - she'd be owing for a while. And yeah, Rankar would not be terribly happy about that.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> 

* * *

Thinking a bit more lower key, Inks snapped her fingers. She moved with purpose through the market, buying samples of precious metals, rare wood and semi-precious stones. Laden with her raw material cargo, Inks headed back to her home, finding Pipera having claimed a smaller table for a pile of travel guides and histories. "Oh, you're back! Perfect-"

Setting her haul down, Inks sauntered over and stretched, arms above her head and feeling energy trickle back into her motions. The gleaming brand on her brow had something to do with that too. Ajjim was still soaking in the bath, at ease and without pain despite the burns. To Pipera, Inks hummed. "So quick question- do you know how not to offend a Mountain Lord?" 

"Not offending people is how I've made my living for the past half-decade, so yes," Pipera replied evenly. "I assume this means I'm going to be talking to them on your behalf?" 

"Likely- I had an idea of how to make a deal-" She outlined the rough plan, waving at the materials and in so many words, planning on creating a mask-and-costume in the Cotaxi style. "Basically a gift that shows respect for their culture. Good idea, bad?" She waited for Pipera's verdict. 

Pipera purses her lips, looking it over and nodding. "You'd want to make it a custom order - let them decide the details and so on - but yes, it's a good idea." 

Inks nodded. "Excellent-" she showed the other woman what materials she had on hand, quality, but she wasn't pushing for the best deal or rarest substances at the time. "Give them a general idea. I am a master goldsmith and jeweler among other things." With that directive given, Inks let Pipera work on her end of things, but made it clear that if her input was needed, Pipera only had to come and ask. That done, she finally pulled those wrecked tablets out of storage, bought not long ago at the Sun Market. Damaged, maybe not weatherworn, but unreadable. She retrieved a fine stiff brush for cleaning stone, and a set of hepatizon chisels she'd reserved for herself. So armed, she set to repairing.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Crack Mending technique on the tablets, which will now be henceforth known as signposts. Also + CNNT, so 17m+2wp, for a 2 step reduction in repair time, and whatever tool bonus upgrade I get)  
> ST: ((Yeah, heh, give me a Cog+Lore roll at Diff 4 to translate them from the archaic dialect and make out what's meant by the jumbled words, and take a +3 tool bonus for your Diff 5 repair roll to bring them back into mint condition.))  
> Inks: !ex 15 +2 "Repair"; Inks: [8, 3, 7, 10, 10, 7, 8, 3, 9, 4, 6, 1, 2, 2, 3] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 12 +1 "Translate; Tapped out of motes"; Inks: [2, 10, 9, 1, 3, 4, 4, 9, 8, 3, 9, 4] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> 

It turned out it had been a good idea to bargain down that seller on the "knowledge" the tablets contained. From what Inks could make out, once she'd painstakingly reversed the erosion damage and translated the dialectic Old Realm; these were street signs from some ancient First Age city.

It was probably early Shogunate, she was inclined to think. Very early Shogunate - and honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if the city itself had been established in the High First Age. Which fit with the merchant's tales of finding them in an ancient ruin, at least.

Pipera came in as she was finishing up with a progress report. "I don't have any high-level contacts in the mountains," she explained. "But I've managed to get a message up the chain, and three lords have expressed interest. Or more accurately; have expressed an interest in expressing an interest."

She dropped three scrolls on the table. "To summarize; Pangasutri White-Eyes is the richest at the moment and most able to immediately supply the drugs you want. Powerful martial artist; very territorial and temperamental - he's maimed people for trespass or offense before - not fond of demons or violations of the natural order. But he's partly blind, which might give you an in."

" _Saudari_ Etayadi Fire-in-Earth is a volcano godsdaughter as fond of decorating herself as you are; you'll probably get along famously if you flatter her ego with all the titles she likes. She'd definitely go for the mask and costume, if not personal jewelery."

Pipera sighed before tapping the last scroll. "And Susilo Moto is a Dragonblooded who's bucking a lot of tradition by trying to import tools and devices from outside the Firepeaks to advance his position. Some sort of birth defect or illness or injury that people are remarkably closed-mouthed about. I mention him because he's also trying to open trade routes over the Firepeaks into An Teng, but I'd really rather prefer you went with one of the other two, because I have a nasty feeling he's going to be annoyingly clever. And also because dealing with him will make the rest of the Cotaxi look unkindly on you."

"So a lot of risk and reward to consider. Considering I'm a sorcerer and demonologist, White-Eyes seems less inclined to deal with me, though I can be circumspect about it. Why did you emphasize _Saudari_ \- is that her name or her title?" She hummed. "And Moto sounds... Well, he's the riskiest, and I am definitely interested, but not when a man's life is at stake." 

"It's a title she insists on," Pipera says. "And given that her temper has been described as volcanic; I felt it best to use it." 

"Perfectly reasonable. I think she is our best bet. I could probably _diagnose_ White-Eye's condition, but not treat it, not yet. I'm sure I'll extend my services to him at some point, so don't burn that bridge if you can. See if you can get negotiation started with _Saudari_ Etayadi Fire-in-Earth- if she's anything like me, she'd appreciate a good tailor and seamstress. I can arrange to visit for a custom fitting, though try not to let her hold the medicine hostage over this." 

Having said that, Inks grabbed some blank papers and started drafting her own notes and wording, mostly as a supplement to Pipera's own communication. She sketched out designs as well to include as examples, before handing the primer to Pipera.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'm stunting an action to arm Pipera with a tool bonus of sorts, or some other kind of teamwork assistance.)  
> Inks: (cause I assume she'll be the one rolling, not Inks, when arranging the deals)  
> ST: ((Hmm. What's Inks' general Influence in the area? 2, or 3? Hmm. She's certainly at least 2... yeah, let's say 2-dot Influence of "Gem's Solar" for now.))  
> Inks: (I have influence 3 because/over the orphanage, 4 over/because of hepatizon complex. I'm not sure how far they actually range. I'll add Inf 2 to my sheet about 'Gem's Solar')  
> ST: ((In that case, roll me Pipera's Manipulation+Bureaucracy pool of 10+5 Excellency+2 stunt that you've basically done there +2 Inks-bonus. 19, then, at Diff 5 - the Difficulty is being reduced by Inks' reputation since they've heard about her and won't laugh off claims about her work and skill.))  
> ST: ((Yeah, I may need to reconsider social backgrounds again. Blargh.))  
> Inks: !ex 19; Inks: [3, 3, 7, 10, 8, 10, 8, 10, 2, 3, 2, 4, 4, 3, 5, 10, 10, 10, 8] was rolled for 16 successes.  
> ST: ((Hahaha, _holy shit_.))  
> 

* * *

It was a little weird, watching Pipera communicate with the Firepeaks. She'd flared her Aspect markings; emphasizing the snow-or-seafoam frosting of her hair and gathering an aura of breezes and ozone-scented air around her. She whispered into thin air - her voice a loud enough murmur that Inks could hear it, but Inks could tell that was for her sake.

Occasionally she stopped and cocked her head, listening to nothing. Sometimes she made comments for Inks' sake - "they're arguing about upcoming festivals" or "Etayadi is overruling them". With skillful, pragmatic comments, she brought the far-off men and women around to her way of thinking, and soon enough had a verbal contract for Inks to create a Jewelled regal mask of Etayadi's divine father; beset with black sapphires and fire diamonds and all manner of patterns.

"They'll send over more details about the patterning and symbology with the drugs," she said once she was finished, sagging in her seat. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to have a lie down. Talking for that long over that sort of distance always gives me a headache." 

Inks nodded. "Excellent work."

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (So how long will the drugs take to get here?)  
> ST: ((So yes, Inks is basically paying Res 3 for materials to make the costume, and in return for that she gets the drugs - more than she technically needs, in fact, so she'll have some stocked up.))  
> Inks: (Nice)  
> ST: ((Just over a day - Pipera rolled hilariously well; so it's a rush order.))  
> Inks: (Wonderful)  
> Inks: (Alright, so Ajjim is more or less going to be okay. And I have a reserve of medicine that is I assume specifically for Green Sun Wasting...)  
> ST: ((Well, she can use them for other things as well. But yes, it's good for Green Sun Wasting if she wants to keep it all for any further cases.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so general 'high end drugs.)  
> Inks: (Alright, I think we can comfortably take some downtime, since Ajjim is going to get treated. I'll write out a stunt more or less describing a 'week' I think. And included, I want to research the staff/notes I got. Lesse. Charms charms charms...)  
> ST: ((Good for "horribly toxic essence irradiation" things, for the most part. Basically radiation poisoning, radiation burns, toxic essence saturation, that sort of thing. GSW is the obvious one, but fucking yourself up with a really horrible sorcery botch or getting caught in a high-level manse's essence vents would probably cause similar damage.))  
> ST: ((... well, getting caught in a high-dot manse's essence vents would probably just kill you, actually.))  
> ST: ((But assuming it didn't, you would want lots of drugs.))  
> Inks: (WHat's the ETA of Scutum Magicae, btw?)  
> ST: ((About a week and a half from Pipera's interview - two-week journey.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so possibly by end of session, depending on further downtime. I'm going to have Inks learn Courtier's Eye Technique from Solar Investigation, takes 6 days training. I will likely get Judge's Ear next, but you want to adjust its mechanics and I'd like to discuss that a bit more in-depth)  
> ST: ((Kk))  
> 

With the immediate crises addressed, Inks was able to _breath_ , first relaxing, and then expanding her attention to address the ongoing matters at hand. The medicines arrived under armed guard in a strong locked chest, which Inks could only approve of, and along with it were the details of the commission. Setting those aside, she turned to the stacks of evidence and intrigue left behind by the unnamed exorcist. Ghost-warding formula, sunlight-resistance regimes, and mediative diagrams of ghostly Essence. Fascinating, if somewhat macabre.

Between that, she carefully administered Ajjim's treatment, reassuring him that his fur would grow back once the burns fully healed, and that he was welcome to her baths for as long as he felt the need. (Along the way, she quietly wrote a bank draft to buy the fragment of green fire, along with a promissory note of a higher payout when her funds stabilized)

Her first task was organization, carefully arranging matters into piles that she could later offer to Pipera or another specialist if required. Included in her examinations was the exorcist's staff, bedecked in jangling rings. Taking one evening off from the paperwork, she plied it with all manner of thaumaturgical assessment.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'm seeing 3 rolls here. Organizing the papers, Treating Ajjim, and examining the staff)  
> ST: ((Papers are Diff 2 Int+Inv to organise, Ajjim is Int+Medicine at Diff 4, the staff is Per+Occult.))  
> Inks: (Since this is all downtime/separated by hours/days, full blast excellencies)  
> ST: ((lol))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +4 "Int Invest 5 +4 +style2 stunt2; +4 autosux"; Inks: [2, 10, 3, 9, 7, 7, 2, 10, 8, 1, 9, 10, 4] was rolled for 15 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 15 +5 "Int Med 5+5+3+2; +5"; Inks: [3, 8, 3, 9, 2, 1, 2, 8, 8, 3, 3, 4, 6, 10, 10] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4 "per occult 5+3+2; +4"; Inks: [4, 10, 8, 8, 1, 2, 2, 8, 10, 9] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (*drops mic*)  
> ST: ((Okay, now roll Ajjim's pool of 5+3 bonus dice+1 WP against Diff 2 for the disease.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +1; Inks: [6, 2, 4, 9, 10, 4, 1, 3] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Incidentally, without your baths and your treatment he'd have been doing that at Diff 3, at a -4 penalty, with no bonus dice.))  
> Inks: (Context like that is very important!)  
> 

It was not a good week for Ajjim. Even with the baths numbing the worst of the pain, he was left uncomfortable by how hideous the wasting illness left him - and Inks had to dedicate Carsa and Maji almost full-time to keeping Pesala distracted and away from the courtyard, lest the sight of her father's illness upset her.

Still, by the end of it he seemed to be pulling through, though she guessed he'd still spend several weeks convalescing.

The staff was an interesting thing. It was definitely magical, made of some sort of tarnished brass, and some checking around placed the design as a southwestern one from across the Firepeaks - An Teng and the lands south of it. It also had some sort of magical effect, which she couldn't determine directly - though she had suspicions.

So she took it down to her factory, asked a neomah to dematerialize, and tapped it smartly on the head.

Right then. Not too surprising. A staff capable of hitting intangible ghosts and demons was a pretty practical tool for an exorcist. Given the symbols carved on it, Inks guessed that would only work for creatures of darkness - a god or elemental wouldn't be touched.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... fuck, where'd my Desert Mother notes go?))  
> ST: ((Aha, got 'em))  
> 

The notes, though... those were the really interesting part. Oh, not the stuff about the Desert Mother - though that was, admittedly, fascinating. The Exorcist hadn't had too high an opinion of the Ragged; noting that their goddess had vanished decades ago and they were still worshiping her more out of hope that she'd return than any real evidence she was still alive.

They had forgotten most of her praise-names; the writer noted with a sort of sad, pitying scorn, and called her "Desert Mother" because it was all they remembered of her. She'd been an oasis-goddess for sure, and the notes pieced together some of her rituals and actions prior to disappearing - along with one _actual_ title for her; _Shaded Pool Amidst the Golden Palms_.

The interesting thing, however, was what else was on the papers. The doodles in the margins. The little drawings here and there. The jotted reminders and bullet-pointed observations.

All concerning Inks herself. 

Inks blinked. "...okay then."  
  


>   
> ST: ((The exorcist has not _quite_ been doodling her name with Inks' surname in the margins of her homework, but it's pretty clear she's been stalking Inks - there are (rather bad) sketches of her around town with Maji, and bullet points of what she's been doing and who she's been talking to.))  
> Inks: (Heh. Do the murder victims correlate?)  
> ST: ((From what Inks can put together, she's surprisingly stealthy, but there are a few places she's not able to follow - anything in the Despot's palace being the most obvious, and there's also nothing about the Sun Market.))  
> ST: ((You rolled what, 11 threshold sux? Yeah, they correlate. And notably; the notes show that the labour guy was definitely beating slaves to death, and the water-farmer was ripping off foreigners and people new to Gem with ridiculously inflated prices.))  
> ST: ((Well. "Show".))  
> Inks: (heh)  
> ST: (("Have angry scrawled comments about". It looks like the Exorcist was using this paper as general working documents while primarily investigating the Desert Mother.))  
> Inks: (So basically Inks at some point dealt with a labor guy and a water farmer? That's what I'm not clear on, but sure.)  
> Inks: (Hmm. Where is Suleiman, at the moment?)  
> ST: ((No, that's separate from the Inks stalking. There are other notes - like I said; general working notes.))  
> ST: ((It's written in an odd dialect of Firetongue - readable, but with quirks. Inks doesn't recognize it offhand, so she can either roll Linguistics to try and decipher it, or just show it to Pipera, who mentioned lots of experience with languages.))  
> Inks: (Doing so!)  
> 

Having exhausted her own grasp of language, Inks called for Pipera and presented the documents. "You might have a better grasp on the language than I do."

>   
> Inks: (wow that was a turkey line)  
> ST: ((Suleiman is... what season is it? Water, probably... he's actually due soon.))  
> Inks: (I figure he'd be a good person to ask about 'Shaded Pool Amidst the Golden Palms, just as a cursory thing.)  
> ST: ((The goddess vanished decades ago, so he's not too likely to know anything, but it's worth a shot.))  
> Inks: (He's not the only person I'm gonna ask, of course)  
> ST: ((Of course.))  
> Inks: (Anyway, Pipera's thoughts on the notes?)  
> 

The notes merit a raised eyebrow from Pipera. "I was under the impression that you had only four or five hopeful for your affections," she said, amused. "None of whom seem much inclined to stalking. Have you picked up another already?"

Flipping through them, her eyes narrowed. "I do recognize this - vaguely," she concluded after a while. "This dialect is a long way from home, though, and a rare one. Somewhere along the Violet Coast, I'd say - near the Wailing Fen. Not a place with much writing; usually only the priests and a few of the settled scavengers in the richer towns - yes, you see how she's not comfortable with the pen, here and here? She's not all that literate." 

Inks whistled. "Good catch." 

"I try," smirked Pipera.

"Have you ever heard of 'Shaded Pool Amkidst the Golden Palms'?" 

Pipera's eyes went blank for a minute. Then she shook her head. "Never," she said with certainty. "An oasis?" 

ST: ((Oh, didn't mention - the staff isn't an artifact, but has a thaum blessing on it to strike immaterial CoDs.))

"Possibly the title of a god or their domain... I'm reminded of Sun Under Water, but..." She considered the pools at that settlement-trade post, and admittedly how she wanted to visit again. Likely not... "Hmm..."

"There's another oasis god in Gem, but the impression I've gotten from him is..." She shook her head. "Just not interested in dealing with him right now, not without an advantage."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay... so two things are left on my plate and then I think we can conclude the session, I'll do a stunt/couple rolls for making the costume/mask, and then I have an idea of doing an extended roll w/ interval for investigating the murders. I'm thinking of that, because I feel that right now, all I can do is more leg work-)  
> ST: ((Cool cool))  
> Inks: (I need to find the exorcist, and pull her into semi-protective custody- on that note, do we have sufficient evidence that she's the culprit?)  
> ST: ((Well, depends on what you'd define "sufficient" as; but yeah, Inks is pretty sure she dun it.))  
> Inks: (My suggestion re: extended roll is something like, you pick a target # of successes, and I keep rolling til I get it. This determines how long the process takes. Intervals can also be spiced up with Action or more setting detail.)  
> Inks: (Anyway, craft stunting!)  
> 

Inks did not really have a workshop of her own- she still owned the property that held her gem crafting group. Waiting til nightfall, she summoned a Heranhal assistant. That done, she set to first building a rudimentary workshop, a forge and smelter from stone, gem-polishing tools, and so on.

She whispered promises of glory and power to the new devices, and watched the test coals burn just a little brighter. Her aide hummed a forge-work song, bombastic and a bit lewd, but irrepressibly cheerful. Together they arranged the bricks just so, added insulation in the six-fold pattern to retain the Essence of fire, and woke the lazy coals with the sounds of Chronicle striking stone. So equipped, Inks moved next to actually crafting the mask and costume.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I realized i could have made it more awesome, so I did)  
> Inks: (First roll is 'build a workshop', so I take rudimentary tools, using CNNT they're upgraded by one level, and then I make Better tools using Those Tools. So I think by the end of it I'll have gone from level 1+1, to 2+1; yeah, as per my sheet, Rudimentary(1), Basic(2), Masterwork(3); so I used this commission as an excuse to build a (small) set of masterwork tools focused on jewelry)  
> Inks: (Well, no, Basic tools that count as masterwork, sorry)  
> ST:((Hee. Okay. In that case... hmm. This one is just mundane, if exceptional, so roll me Dex+Craft for PRETTYNESS.))  
> Inks: (Dex 2, Craft 5, +3 Jewelry Style, +1d perk, +1d from Heranhal aide, +2 stunt, +4 autosux. Tool bonus?)  
> ST: ((+1 from your masterwork tools - it would be higher for normal jewelery, but you're making something high-quality and thus need that sort of level of tool.))  
> Inks: !ex 15 +3 "dice cap of 7, not 8"; Inks: [9, 6, 9, 3, 10, 10, 5, 9, 4, 3, 10, 2, 6, 7, 9] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... it is a very, very pretty mask and costume.))  
> ST: ((Inks may, in fact, have overpaid somewhat.))  
> Inks: (Duly noted)  
> 

* * *

Trusting Pipera to make the arrangements for delivery, Inks prepared herself for a long stretch of on-the-ground invesigation- focusing on interviews, she aimed to build a picture of the exorcist's movement through Gem, her habits and methods. Armed with her paperwork, there was already a firm them and guideline to her actions. She sought a form of justice.

For a moment, Inks considered moving incognito, but then she realized that the woman was infatuated with her, platonic or otherwise. It would frustrate her investigation slightly, but Inks considered the trade off to be worth it. The Despot's seal opened many doors, and Inks was more than willing to use it. Merchants, House scions, slavers and industry titans. Her investigation was pointed, focused on the circumstances and matters of the ongoing plot, but quietly, she kept fastidious notes on the goings on throughout Gem's population.

Like before, a plunging neckline and high-slit up each thigh loosened tongues, though she admitted a lot of people were speaking out their lusts instead of the truth. With that in mind, she took great care to verify their statements.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so that's my investigation stunt. How should we arbitrate it?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. A contested roll, I think, between Inks' Int+Investigation and the exorcist's Wits+Stealth. First to get 5 over the other succeeds. Inks is, rather frighteningly, operating at a -4 external penalty for reasons that will become clear whether she succeeds or fails. Does she have any magic she can enhance with?))  
> Inks: (Just an excellency. Well, actually no. there is _a_ charm that is tailor made for this, but I don't have it; I could swap out my purchase earlier for it though)  
> Inks: (Evidence Discerning Method, You wereprobably teeing me up just to learn it, huh?)  
> ST: ((Heh. Hang on a mo...))  
> Inks: (EDM is basically 'roll per+invest at Diff -1 ext penalty; negate up to [threshold/Essence] successes on all social/war/dramatic actions' against that character)  
> Inks: (-X external, not -1)  
> ST: ((Yeah, that would help par down the external penalty. Do you want to swap out for it, or see what happens?))  
> Inks: (hrmm... I would prefer to swap for it. )  
> Inks: (Do you have the text handy? I do, just wanting to know if you're reading it from the book)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. And yes, I do, though I think this means you'd be making an Investigation roll to enhance your... look, let's just say it reduces your external penalty to -1.))  
> ST: ((Or you'd be making an Investigation roll against the exorcist to enhance your Investigation roll against the exorcist.))  
> ST: ((which you're making because of your Investigation roll against the murderer, who is the exorcist.))  
> Inks: (The latter case is how it's supposed to work; this is like, the Exact situation EDM is for)  
> ST: ((and at that point it's just getting silly.))  
> Inks: (I have evidence based on those documents I grabbed, therefore I roll per+invest at Diff 1; is that information giving out misleading cues Y/N?)  
> ST: ((Well, alright. Roll the profiling one then. Hmm. Yeah, that evidence is depressingly accurate.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +1 -1; Inks: [5, 8, 6, 4, 7, 4, 5, 9, 9, 6, 7, 1, 5] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Okay, I negate 3 points of penalty, and commit 5m; this is going to persist a slong as I maintain that commitment)  
> ST: ((... seriously though, you're rolling Investigation to enhance your Investigation, which you're doing because of your prior Investigation. This is like Investigationception. Beware of spinning toys.))  
> Inks: (heh)  
> ST: ((Also gives you some more fluff insight into the exorcist's personality.))  
> ST: ((She is, uh. Not a happy person.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +5 -1 "First Roll Inks"; Inks: [8, 10, 9, 5, 10, 7, 10, 6, 5, 7, 8, 3] was rolled for 15 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: !ex 21; ST: [7, 10, 9, 3, 6, 8, 8, 4, 1, 2, 6, 5, 1, 1, 6, 8, 8, 3, 5, 3, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> ST: ((was not expecting that))  
> ST: ((Okay, lemme stunt.))  
> ST: ((But yeah, you won it in one shot.))  
> 

* * *

The chase was - not to overuse the rougher bits of Inks' Nexan vocabulary - among the _freakiest shit_ she had ever seen in her life. And that was including some of what her mentor got up to. The witnesses just _didn't remember_ what had happened. She traced one of the killings - or the kidnappings prior to the killings, anyway - back to the middle of a crowded tunnel in broad... uh, glowstone-light.

And nobody remembered a thing. The people she interviewed - who she _knew_ for a _fact_ had been there - fought her tooth and nail when she questioned them. It took everything short of tying them down and _screaming_ at them for them to cough up a few morsels - and it left them horror-struck and guilty at how the robed figure had walked up and brutally beaten the labour-master into the ground while nobody lifted a finger to help.

It was all like that. The exorcist, whoever she was, seemed to shift between incredible subtlety - going as unseen as, well, a ghost - and blatant, straightforward brutality that nobody _wanted to see_. Memories were suppressed, attention was diverted; people did anything other than acknowledge the thing in their midst.

Had Inks not known _exactly_ who she was looking for - known her as well as she knew Maji or 'Nanda, it felt like - she'd have been lost. But whatever magic the woman used couldn't make her _act_ differently, couldn't make her _think_ differently - and it was in her patterns of behavior that Inks caught her.

She liked the tunnels; especially the deep ones close to the uppermost mines. She spent time around places where the Ragged congregated. She had a few vices that she indulged - including sour milk, for some reason. And most obviously, she stalked Inks herself.

In the end, it was as simple as setting up an intricate trap to turn the tables on her watcher and corner her in the sun; less than a street away from Inks' manor. Blocked into a open alley that had suddenly sprouted a cunningly-hidden extra wall and ceiling, the only way out she was left with was, once again, directly through Inks - and behind her, Maji.  
  


>   
> Inks: (fascinating)  
> Inks: (How does her face look, btw? after Maji got a piece of her)  
> ST: ((Inks can't see, on account of her having her hood fully up and her veil down.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, just curious)  
> 

"Okay." Inks crossed her arms over her chest and smiled, a bit more feral than normal for her. "let's try this 'talking' thing again. Shall we head back to my place?"

>   
> Inks: (I think we can conclude the session on that.)  
> ST: Awesome.  
> ST: 5xp+1mxp  
> ST: Had fun?  
> Inks: (I did lots of fun=- also don't forget i used a heranhal!)  
> ST: Oh yes, true  
> ST: +1Sxp  
> ST: Man, I was genuinely expecting her to beat you on that contested roll  
> ST: wtf  
> ST: 10 sux on 12  
> ST: Snd then 8 on 21  
> ST: wtf  
> Inks: Yeah, dice were on fire for me today  
> ST: Presumably the dice fairies disapprove of her beating people to death  
> Inks: Apparently  
> Inks: You had fun, I hope?  
> ST: Bery much so!  
> ST: I look forward to your post-session notes~ : 3  
> Inks: excellent.  
> ST: And I'm glad Ajjim didn't botch that roll  
> ST: Because I would totally have killed him and left you with Pesala if he had  
> 

>   
> Inks: so I do have a suggestion  
> ST: Do tell?  
> Inks: Don't be afraid to be succinct? You tend to want to give me lots and lots of information, which is awesome, but it also takes a long time to actually convey  
> Inks: Being specific is great, and the mountain lords were a good test case; broad overview in succinct terms, followed by more specific information  
> ST: Hmm. okay, fair enough  
> ST: will keep in mind  
> Inks: Anyway, Pipera's really nice. You're getting a lot of mileage out of her  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: She starting to pick up that snarky Pepper tone?  
> 1Inks: getting there, yeah  
> ST: : P  
> 

>   
> Inks: Lesse...  
> Inks: How long did the search for Exorcist take in days?  
> ST: Since you did it in literally one roll wtf; a week  
> Inks: Alright, so today's session roughly covered 2.5 weeks of time?  
> ST: yup  
> Inks: I spent 6 days learning EDM, and then 4 more days learning Judge's Ear  
> Inks: does Scutum magicae have any 'on camera' significance, or can you just tell me what it is now?  
> Inks: and I think last question- do you want me to keep this Judge's ear discussion out of the session notes, or no?  
> ST: ... okay srsly, fuck it, I'm moving my Inksgames notes into an Excel file, THAT WILL AT LEAST NOT MEAN SEARCHING THROUGH 6,000,004 TABS EVERY TIME I WANT TO FIND SOMETHING IN MY NOTES, ARGH- ah, here it is.  
> ST: **Scutum Magicae** - An informative text for the paranoid sorcerer (or employer thereof), with spells for defence and protection both physical and otherwise.  
> ST: *Corrupted Words, Private Plaza of Downcast Eyes, Raising the Earthâ€™s Bones, Virtuous Guardian of Flame*  
> Inks: yeeeee!  
> ST: hmm?  
> ST: VGoF?  
> Inks: and Plaza  
> Inks: gotta look up Words again  
> Inks: ahh yeah, it's the vomit spell.   
> ST: in order, they're "protect my secrets", "protect my privacy", "protect me when I'm stationary", "protect me when I'm mobile"  
> ST: Or if you like, "protect me socially (active/passive)" and "protect me physically (passive/active)"  
> Inks: legit  
> 


	19. Session 19: Talking with Tatters

"Let's try this 'talking' thing again. Shall we head back to my place?" 

The words hung in the air of the closed-off alley. The wall- and ceiling-trap boxed the exorcist in so that the only way out was through Inks and Maji, and the sunlight streamed past them to throw the robed and veiled woman into stark relief. 

"Um," she said quietly. "I'd really rather not. Given... things."

Inks could not help but agree. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "Fair enough. Then we'll talk here. Let's start with a name- I'd rather not call you 'the exorcist' constantly."

The woman seemed to give this some thought, and eyed Maji from behind the veil. "I go by 'Tatters', sort of," she ventured. "And I, um, know who you are."

Inks did not succeed in keeping the knowing grin off her face. "I picked up on that." She paused for a moment, considering. "So I don't exactly know what measures the Despot has taken to find you, aside from letting me do my thing. I'm angling for justice, both yours and his. Preferably yours, truth be told." 

"Anyway, the point is, you're in trouble with the Despot, and I want to get you *out* of trouble and make *him* happy with something that isn't your head on a pike. Deserving or not, you did murder people."

"They deserved it!" the exorcist - Tatters - snapped with a momentary heat. The flash of temper vanished almost immediately and she shrank in on herself in the heavy robes. "They were hurting people - _innocent_ people - and wouldn't stop. Not even when I warned them."

"Based on your notes, I agree that they deserved _something_." Inks reassured her. "But when you're dead, you're _Dead_. that's it. Whatever you contributed to the world, whatever you could do or become? Gone. Over with." She sighed. "I don't really want to get into a morality/ethics debate right now, but I agree that I want to protect innocent people from wanton cruelty." 

She moved over to the side of the alley and pulled a crate aside so she could sit on it, sighing again. "You have a pretty good idea of who I am right now, yeah? Doctor, sorcerer, artificer. I make things, people- better." 

"My _parents_ on the other hand were petty, cruel crime lords."

She can't see past the patterned veil, but Inks gets the impression Tatters is smiling at her. 

"You rose above them," she says, and there's a sweet sort of wistfulness in the words. "You see the best in people. You _hope_. You help people, even when they're strangers you'll never see again." 

Her tone turned sad. "I wish I could see the world like you must."  
  


>   
> ST: ((You can try to convince her to come back to the manor, btw - like you convinced her to stay and talk last encounter.))  
> 

  
  
"Well, I'm clearly trying to see the best in you. Shouldn't that count for something?" Inks grinned, while Maji rumbled fitfully behind her, wary, but still chastised from before. "Listen- I really don't want to talk to you with the connotation of 'trapped in an alley' hanging over our heads. We have food and drink at my home, a place to sleep if you need it. We can figure out how to defend your interests as well as everyone else's in _comfort_."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Social roll is a go! Stunt, checking styles...)  
> ST: ((2-dot stunt))  
> Inks: (Inks likely gets +1 sux from Stunner Style's master perk, so cha 2 pres 4 +3 style +2 stunt + 4 autosux from styles/exellencies. I'll throw on a compasion channel as well for +3d)  
> Inks: !ex 14 +4; Inks: [4, 9, 3, 6, 7, 9, 7, 9, 2, 8, 3, 6, 4, 7] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Tatters hesitated a moment longer, wavering... and then nodded slowly. "As long as... yes. Alright. I'll come."

* * *

Inks led her new... companion, she supposed, back to the manor. One of her rescued slave-models met her at the door rather than Carsa, though Tatters refused to remove her robe and veil. Stepping into the courtyard, however, she found a pleasant surprise waiting - Pipera was luxuriating in the cool water and skimming through a ledger.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Per+Awa at Pipera.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [10, 2, 8, 9, 2, 9, 3, 8, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
Pipera noticed them coming through the door with a faint yelp and scrambled for a towel to cover herself, but not quite fast enough that Inks didn't see she had some tattoos of her own - a couple down her left arm and some more on her thighs. She usually kept herself covered enough that Inks hadn't had a chance at seeing them before.

Inks smiled disarmingly, raising her hand. "Keep enjoying yourself Pipera, don't mind us." She turned back to her new guest. "Alright-" She turned back to Tatters and hummed. "Do you need anything before we get started?" Oh yeah-" She snapped her fingers and turned to Maji, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him hard. "Such good behavior!" She smiled into his fur before promising him a treat from the pantry. 

Inks That done, she let him roam the property before focusing back on Tatters. "Okay!"

Tatters settled uneasily into a chair as Pipera vacated the baths and retreated in search of clothes. Now that she was closer - and brightly lit, and standing still, and not in danger of bolting at any moment - Inks could see that her robes were a deep purple, with exorcist's gear tucked into pockets and bandoleers here and there, and embroidered black patterns that were probably cultural. 

There was, Inks decided, no way short of another adamant bindi that she wasn't _sweltering_ in those, if she was living - though the bubbling rasp of her breathing was still as unsettling as ever. It didn't seem to be fast or scared, though, which was something.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Np; question- can Inks tell if she's averse to physical contact? or would I need a roll?)  
> ST: ((Per+Socialize))  
> 15Inks: !ex 6 +2; Inks: [4, 8, 2, 8, 3, 2] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... amusingly, still enough to beat her adjusted MDV))  
> Inks: (so would she freak out if Inks got too close or no?)  
> 

  
  
Eying Tatters' body language, Inks felt her heart sink a little. This wasn't a very happy woman - and not because of outside factors. She was nervous, yes, but more than that she looked uncomfortable in her own skin. Inks suspected that her usual... tactile mannerisms might not go as appreciated as usual. Tatters might not be averse to Inks - in fact, if anything she seemed to be opening up to Inks a little - but she didn't like her own body much.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Anything based on attraction isn't likely to go well, but slight contact from Inks - a handhold, or something else on that level - would probably comfort her as a more emotional connection.))  
> 

  
  
Rethinking her plan of offering an impromptu (clothed) shoulder rub, Inks instead took a seat across from Tatters on short side of the table, within easy arms reach. The exorcists own notes were still there, nestled in a folder. "So, we have a few problems and likely a few solutions..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the victims so far, would they have been 'guilty' under Gem legal definition? Like I'm pretty sure hurting slaves is a bad thing in Gem, but I might be wrong.)  
> ST: ((Well, justice in Gem is a bit up in the air. Sahlak dude was definitely guilty; that would have been a House Sahlak thing - they take a very dim view of decent brothels skimping on healthcare because word of VDs spreading can fuck their business model over right hard.))  
> 02 Inks: (Gotcha, so it's very informal and ad-hoc, and self-policing.)  
> ST: ((The water farmer who was cheating out-of-towners is iffier - that'd be the Despot's court and lean more towards how much of that money was going to the Despot, and whether he was cheating anyone important.))  
> Inks: (Right, and I'm under the impression the Despot's angry because he's got to clean up a mess, that he's losing money.)  
> ST: ((The labour-slave owner might well have got off free - beating slaves extremely harshly is frowned on, but not illegal.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, that helps)  
> 

  
  
Inks pulled out a sheaf of blank paper and inked up a brush. "So, I'd like you to tell me anything you'd like with regards to how and why you're doing what you're doing. The problem is that there's no real central justice in Gem, just in-house self-policing and whatever the Despot ends up having to arbitrate as... the Despot." 

"So we can either try to prove that you did the Despot a _favor_ , which is currently a hard sell, or we can figure out some kind of parole- preferably where you'd work with me. I personally am pretty happy with your goals, just not your methods. The Despot is unhappy because you're losing him money and making him work more."

The veiled head tilted, and Inks got the feeling she was being carefully considered again. "I want to help people," Tatters said quietly. "Just... help people. I don't care about the Despot, really - he would never have found me on his own." 

She shifted in her chair, rubbing her chest reflexively. "When I saw those men making people suffer, I warned them to stop. When they didn't, I stopped them. They wouldn't have; otherwise. Men like that don't." 

There was an awful lot of bitterness in that last sentence, Inks thought. Experience, too.

Inks winced, before setting her brush down and reaching out to take Tatter's hand. "...yeah. I know how that feels...." 

Still holding on, Inks hummed, brightening. "This is why I practice a general form of enlightened self-interest! If I make 'a way' that is easier, makes more money, makes you healthier, and all you have to do is 'not that thing I don't like', then you're golden!" She paused again, before laughing. "Well, no *I'm* golden..." 

"I don't like slavery as an institution, but I really don't have a problem with Gem being a rags to riches up-and-down economy..." She trailed off, laughing more at herself. "Tangent- socio-economic theory is one of my interests..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm kind of drawing a blank for how to mollify the Despot. I have a really good idea that Tatters can help with, but she needs to not be on the Despot's list to do it. Can I get a roll to shake a hint or two loose?)  
> ST: ((Well, mm. Just from Inks' raw Int, there are a few ways she could shift the blame off Tatters and frame another, non-existent culprit - as long as she could get Tatters to stop carrying out vigilante justice. If she wanted to be particularly audacious, she could make up a ghostly killer and bring Tatters in to exorcise "it", and then 'sorry Despot, the ghost was vengeful and mad and we were forced to destroy it rather than subdue it'.))  
> 

  
  
"It's _wrong_ ; people suffering like that," Tatters insisted. "I know you don't like hurting people, I... I wish we lived in a world where your ideal was true. But sometimes you need to use force. Sometimes there's no other way."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, hmm. Roll Per+Socialize for Inks to put together a few of Tatters' Intimacies, Virtues and so on and generally get an idea of how she "works". You have a nice... hold on a moment... Yes, you're rolling against her MDV but get a lovely -4 Diff due to your profiling on her and her openness with Inks, which takes her down to pretty low values.))  
> Inks: (nice)  
> 

  
  
"Hmm..." Baring the Despot having a much better intelligence network than I expect, I'm pretty sure he doesn't know that I've found you- I agree for the record. Sometimes you have to use force. You just only *had* force." She smiled, understand and reassuring. "The point is, we can in theory make the Despot happy by convincing him that *another* ghost was the culprit, one you 'heroically' exorcised'. The downside is that trying to pull one over on the ruler of a nation... Well, he's smart. Enough to keep people who are better at things than he is around."  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks: [4, 4, 10, 8, 1, 5, 1, 1] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Okay, not going to fluff it, but Inks has put together the following: Tatters is Compassion 5/Conviction 5, and has a pretty high-level Intimacy of "Penitent" - she feels guilty or ashamed or bad about herself somehow, and is trying to atone for something. Possibly something she's done, possibly just "existing".))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> ST: ((She's also kind of... not quite "anal", but Inks definitely noticed during profiling that she has a lot of little rules and doesn't like breaking them. One was definitely "don't interact with decent people" or something similar, and Inks suspects another is probably related to how she wears those heavy robes all the time. Her morality is kind of black-and-white, but she definitely trust Inks' judgement - maybe more than her own in some cases.))  
> Inks: (Oathbound, perhaps. Not metaphysically, just personality)  
> ST: ((Yes. Or the sort of bureaucratic personality that doesn't like acting out from what's proper. Inks can almost certainly exploit some of those rules if she knows them.))  
> 

  
  
Inks hummed. "So we can be honest, and risk not being able to calm the Despot down. Or we can try to con him... or we can try to con *Gem* and get the Despot to back us up..." She hurriedly reviewed everything she knew of the Despot, considering his personality and willingness to be pragmatic over emotional.  
  


>   
> ST: ((What are you rolling for?))  
> Inks: (Okay, thinking; how many instances of EDM can Inks run? 1 or more? Secondly, I am going to either EDM, then attempt to predict the Despot's idea of being a co-conspirator)  
> Inks: (EDM lacks 'Stackable', but that's really only for multiple stacking bonuses, not 'separte commitments')  
> ST: ((You, uh. Haven't put the rules for EDM in the doc. Hang on a mo while I find them.))  
> Inks: (I should fix that!)  
> ST: ((I'mma say you can have up to {Investigation} profiles.))  
> Inks: (cool, so EDM int+invest at Diff 1; does the despot's behavior inflict a penalty on this roll?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. No.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +1; Inks: [6, 10, 3, 7, 4, 2, 7, 6, 5, 2, 10, 8] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (So negating -3 external penalty on the next roll if any)  
> Inks: (So, the next roll to clarify is 'Inks is trying to predict or decide how to convince the Despot to go wth her plan of 'con Gem'; with the benefit of A: stopping the vigilante murders. B: getting an exorcist on side)  
> Inks: (Difficulty, penalties?)  
> ST: ((Okay, so... hmm. Roll Int+Socialize, then. Diff 6, which you're bringing down to 4.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +3 "5+1+2stunt + conviction 5; out of conviction channels until we complete a story; +3 autosux from excellency"; Inks: [8, 5, 4, 5, 3, 7, 3, 2, 2, 7, 9, 4, 6] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Glad I pushed the virtue!)  
> 

  
  
Hmm, Inks thought. Would the Rankar go for it? It would largely depend on what she was willing to offer, she suspected. He would want to punish - and Tatters would definitely defend herself with lethal force - but she thought his pragmatism and desire to keep Gem under his thumb was stronger than his pettiness. 

If it got him someone as stealthy and as deadly as Tatters to do his bidding, Inks was sure he'd go along with her plan. The issue there was twofold - first, giving Rankar that kind of assassin, and second whether Tatters would even agree. If she refused that... well, her value purely as a spy might win him over and be less distasteful. 

And of course her expertise with the Dead was a selling point. At the very least, Iblan Asenya would want someone as skilled with the Dead as Tatters helping her with the mine-ghosts - and the Despot _did_ listen to the old woman's council. The tantalizing lure of reclaiming El-Galabi was there, too.   
ST: Ultimately, it all depended on what Tatters could, and was willing, to offer Rankar in payment.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Ahahaha, we are of the same mind! El-Galabi was what I was building to~)  
> ST: ((: P))  
> ST: ((The question may arise to Inks of "exactly what _is_ Tatters?", as that might sway the result depending on the answer.))  
> 

  
  
Humming thoughtfully, Inks picked her brush back up and called for Pipera. "Alright, I have an idea, but we need to workshop it a bit." She looked up at Tatters. "Fundamentally, this plan relies on you turning yourself in, *knowing* that you're doing so with an eye towards long-term growth and advantage." When Pipera arrived, the whitecaps in her hair had extended further down, freezing the lingering moisture from the bath. 

Tatters went rigid.

"Humor me for a moment-" She smiled disarmingly, eyes sharp and attentive.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa~))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +1; Inks: [4, 10, 10, 9, 8, 8, 4, 7, 7, 8, 8, 6] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Yeah, she's scared. It wasn't for very long, and she wrestled it under control almost immediately, but there was definite fear there for a moment. Tatters probably has a nasty encounter with a Dragonblood somewhere in her past - enough to recognize aspect markings.))  
> ST: ((She's not going to attack or anything, but she definitely flinched.))  
> ST: ((Hee. I was wondering if you were going to invoke Pipera and find that out~))  
> 

  
  
Inks let the reaction go for the moment, but resolved to follow up on it a bit later. She turned up the charm in her smile all the same. 

She quickly briefed her executive assistant on the plan, outlining the approach and her own insights into Rankar's character, before turning fully back to Tatters and describing her part in the matter. "This is all just a draft. I'm not going to do a damn thing until you're happy with it. It's just the idea that so far has a low risk and reasonably high return." 

"The short version though, is the more concessions you give to the Despot, the more he'll be happy with you alive and working for him. I'd rather you work for *me* though and allow you to work for him at your discretion."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So, here's the thing about this whole solution- I as a player don't feel confident that Inks could pull a con off like this. Due in part to dice ratings, and generally just that I'm used to never being clever enough as a player to think of all the angles)  
> Inks: (I don't need you to tell me that the 'frameup' is viable, but I'm still as a player conditioned to believe that the audacious plan will work.)  
> ST: ((... you're not confident, but you think it _will_ work?))  
> ST: ((I don't quite understand.))  
> Inks: (more that objectively, I know that you're presenting a game environment that allows audacity, but I'm used to players and STs shying away from audacious in favor of more even-handed approaches.)  
> Inks: (I want to try the frameup, but I'm afraid the consequences for failure are high)  
> ST: ((Ah, gotcha. Okay, hmm. Do you want to risk it anyway, try for another plan, or try for some more information that might help you decide?))  
> Inks: (I thin I want to risk it, just for the sake of experimentation. I'm confident that as a storyteller, you aren't going to make this an unrecoverable state. Plus, the 'bring Rankar in' plan can work as a backup if the con itself doesn't.)  
> ST: ((I'll note that you could always _not_ bring him in on it and keep Tatters' involvement in the murders secret.))  
> Inks: (True!)  
> 

  
  
Having finished the draft of the 'compromise' plan, Inks leaned back in her chair. "Hmm..." 

"It's viable... but I think it's too complicated, now that it's all laid out." She looked up at Tatters. "If I give up on making the Despot happy, either by admitting I couldn't find you or telling him there won't be any more victims, I can keep you out of it. You however, would have to stop murdering people. And lie low for a while." 

She hummed thoughtfully, reviewing both her memory and notes of the murder so far, the witnesses, everything. Then she looked at Tatter's garb. "Pretty distinctive. We'll have to get you a new wardrobe at some point..." She looked up at Pipera, who was leaning over Inks's chair and pouring over the notes. "I'm going to go talk to the Despot, tell him the murders won't continue. Is there anything I should keep in mind?"

"I don't-" said Tatters at the same time Pipera said "you should-" 

There was an awkward pause as both of them stumbled over the other's interference. Pipera won. "You should consider taking me," she said. "I can be sure of making a good first impression on him - and if you give me some time, I can probably come up with a bribe he'll accept.

She eyed Inks' outfit, or lack thereof. "A bribe that isn't you," she added.

"Hah!" Inks stood up with a grin. "Oh I'm liking you even more now. Sure, let's introduce you." She called for Carsa, instructing her to mind the property and tend to their guest. She decided not to ask that Carsa keep an eye on her, Tatters was already too good at evasion to bother. To Tatters, Inks moved around the table and knelt down next to her, taking one gloved hand in her own. "Stay here til we get back. Or I'll have Pipera send you a message. Carsa can help you, food, water, a book. Work on those warding notes- I still have them here." 

Darting upstairs, Inks hurriedly changed into another dress, one of finer diaphanous silk edged and weighed down in artful dangling chains and gold-encrusted hems. She pinned her hair up with a bejeweled in as well. "Alright, let's go chat with Rankar!"

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, let me see...))  
> ST: ((Right, so Pipera can pretty trivially succeed at figuring out a perfect gift for Rankar, and also determining what he's willing to concede to allow a deal to be made. She can also make a good first impression on him and buff Inks' socialize rolls towards him. The two of them working together could probably get him to agree to Tatters - the question is whether you want to do that, or go the safer route given that Tatters might not agree to him.))  
> Inks: (Agree to tatters what- I know that i've been teetering between plans, but right now the plan is convince Rankar the murders are done, that the culprit is gone/no longer his problem. Planning on keeping Tatters involvement a secret)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I'm just mentioning that if Inks and Pipera cooperated, they /could/ probably talk him round to being in on the con without hiring Tatters out as his personal assassin, in case you were attached to that idea.))  
> Inks: (Oh! Hmm... Yeah this is the tough call. I think it's more in character for Inks to seek a compromise than go audacious for the sake of it? )  
> Inks: (The main concern is Tatters's thoughts on the matter. Bringing Rankar in on the con- she should have input on that. So keeping Tatters secret is peace of mind for her.)  
> ST: ((Cool. Okay, hmm.))  
> 

  
  
They made a stop in the Sahlak district; guided by Pipera's instincts, and came out with a number of carefully-selected dreamstones that set Inks back a considerable sum, even with both of them bargaining the price down. Then it was on to the palace. 

Or rather, partway to the palace. They were most of the way out of Red Stone when Inks heard a familiar voice and turned to find Telalsi catching up with her. 

"If," the girl panted - evidently having rushed to catch them. "I heard off... sorry, if you're looking for the Despot, you want to turn back. He's down here, not in the palace."

"Really?" Inks blinked. "Dare I ask why?"

Telalsi grinned. "He's in a glitter-palace, ma'am. Why d'you think?"

"I can work with that." She turned smartly on one heel and laughed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (What's a glitter-palace again?)  
> ST: ((It's what Telalsi and most of the working girls call the highest-class Sahlak pleasure-houses - the ones that are basically palatial and glittering with gemstones and fine art and vice and so on.))  
> ST: ((Her directions point to Rankar being in Sahlak Janissa's personal "residence".))  
> 

  
  
Curious and bemused, Inks led the way, but not before giving Telalsi a fair bit of coin and an honest, grateful smile. Moving with purpose, she cut a striking figure through the streets and tunnels, before entering the opulent, bejeweled property. She was as tactful as she knew how, asking to meet with the Despot as his earliest convenience."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Would Speed the Wheels apply here?)  
> ST: ((It probably would, yes. And tugging on Janissa as a thread might help, too.))  
> 

  
  
"I have business with the Despot, and Sahlak Janissa is quickly becoming a fast friend." She spoke easily, aiming not to alarm but instead inspire the servants and high-class courtesans around her to move with conviction, a speed and willingness to get things done.  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks: [10, 8, 4, 5, 4, 8, 8, 1] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (So now Rankar will show up 4x earlier than he would have normally).  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

  
  
'Glitter-palace' was an apt name. The /Heaven's Gates/ was one of the most expensive pleasure-houses in Gem, which stretched from Red Stone all the way down to the Throne tunnels. Every inch of the foyer was luxury and decadence. Fine art hung on the walls; rich tapestries, gemwork and sculptures. 

It wasn't tawdry or provocative, either. Oh, there was a subtle vein of seductive daring underlying everything, but the art was tasteful, the costumes didn't blatantly flaunt their wearers' assets like the lower-class places. It was only a little more than half an hour - waited on in this lap of luxury by very, /very/ attentive servants - before Rankar arrived from the bottom of a grand, mahogany and camphor-wood staircase. 

Janissa was with him. They both looked a little surprised that Inks was actually there, though they must have been told.

Inks stood up without being prompted, smiling fondly at Jannissa and more respectfully at Rankar, before bowing in her more Nexian style. "Thank you both for meeting with me- I have news regarding a particular matter, but first I'd like to introduce Ceae Pipera, my executive assistant and far-reaching agent."

Pipera curtsied with perfect grace. "I'm honoured, my lord, my lady."  
  


>   
> ST: ((We can probably abstract this a little, to avoid me talking to myself with Pipera and Rankar and Janissa. : P))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Raising her hand with a sharp, decisive gesture, as coordinated as if they had rehearsed it, Inks bid Pipera to present the dreamstones. "Something of interest to you, I believe. My actual reason for being here is a private matter, however." Having said that, she and Janissa both quickly organized a private room, letting Rankar exult over the dreamstones for a polite view moments. Finally, Inks took a seat on the richly cushioned lounge and crossed one leg over the other.

Inks: Noting the veils around the small opulent room, the curtains themseles enchanted against eavesdropping, Inks smiled. "A few weeks ago there was an issue- brutal murders. I am pleased to announce that they will no longer be a problem." She sat back and let that proclaimation weigh on Rankar's attention.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Private room for just Inks, Pipera and Rankar, I assume?))  
> Inks: (yeah)  
> 

  
  
Rankar was definitely in a good mood - which, uh, perhaps wasn't surprising given where he was. He was immaculately dressed and entirely unruffled, but at a high-class place like this that wasn't saying much. 

He smiled, smug and savage, at Inks words. " _Excellent_. Well done, Lady Inks. Where is my culprit?"

"No place worthy of your consideration." Inks smiled. "I couldn't bring you a corpse, as they were of some dead persuasion. Nothing left behind you see."

Rankar's smile slides into a frown, and he takes a sip of his wine. Inks was fairly sure Pipera was doing /something/, but couldn't tell what.  
  


>   
> Inks: (omfg sweeten the tap hells yes)  
> ST: ((: P))  
> 

  
  
"I told you to bring me someone I could punish," he said, irritated. "There are ways to make even ghosts pay. Why was nothing left behind?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((So yes, he's getting a -1 to his MDV from StT for Socialise rolls, as well as another -1 from that very well-thought-out gift of racy dreamstones. Along with his pre-existing good mood, this is basically canceling out the influence of his petty cruelty entirely, so you just have to give a reasonable explanation and he won't be biased against it by wanting someone to torture.))  
> 

  
  
"Inexperience on my part, I'm afraid. I just did not have the ability to capture a ghost. You do realize I'm barely twenty six-years old, and have been an Exalt for maybe two and a half." She deliberately played the concession, offering it up both as the truth and a further misdirection. "At the risk of being blunt, your problem is solved, even if you did not get to punish the culprit."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, waiting for pool to roll, as well as stunt bonus)  
> ST: ((Quick question; did Inks share the details of her first encounter with the Exorcist with Pipera?))  
> ST: ((During that week she spent trying to track Tatters down and corner her?))  
> Inks: (She likely did, I hope Pipera's professional enough to keep her misgivings out of tense negotiations though)  
> 

  
  
"The ghost was obsessive," Pipera added. "It was resistant to our attempts at binding it, extremely mobile, and Lady Inks' familiar injured it in our initial struggle. When we tried to bind it, I think perhaps it was overwhelmed - it died shrieking."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Manipulation+Socialize; 2-die stunt +2 bonus from Pipera adding helpful details about how the ghost died very painfully.))  
> ST: ((Also some technically truthful details about Inks' first encounter with the culprit.))  
> Inks: (dang, that means my pool is 3; does my socialize style apply?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Well, you can roll Pipera's pool if you want - she's selling this story too, and is specced for socialize/bureaucracy because, uh, it's her job.))  
> Inks: (yeaaah let's do that. Pool?)  
> ST: ((Heh. Manipulation is actually her highest Attribute, so you get to roll 10+5 Socialise Excellency with a 2-die stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +5; Inks: [9, 9, 2, 10, 6, 8, 4, 3, 4, 9, 3, 1] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Remind me to write up an in-character summary of what she's good at, btw.))  
> 

  
  
This last detail definitely seemed to mollify Rankar, and he sipped at his wine some more while he considered. "A ghost, hmm?" he mused. "Was it the Cahzorite we executed, or some other vengeful dead thing?" 

Pipera shook her head. "It was twisted in death, lord. There wasn't anything recognizable in it - there was barely anything human." 

"Hmm. Well." Rankar mulled it over a moment longer, then shrugged. "The matter is closed, at least. I will trust there will be no more killings."

"There won't be." Inks declared, and stood. "Thank you for your time, honored Despot."  
  


>   
> Inks: (XP? Also can we call this the end of story for the murder plot, so I can refresh my virtues?)  
> ST: ((Well... hmm. Are you intending to pick up the next session immediately after this by going back to interrogate Tatters some more?))  
> Inks: (Honestly what I was planning on doing was heading back, declaring Tatters was 'free' and then convincing her and Pipera to help reclaim El-Galabi. )  
> Inks: (but we can resolve that over downtime/next session. I want to get out of this 'scene to scene' arc we've been having)  
> ST: ((Well, there's one scene I want to do back at the manor after this, so yes, that works.))  
> ST: In that case, 4xp+1mxp.  
> Inks: Okay cool. Do you offer story xp?  
> Inks: like, for completing story arcs, or is this not a story arc yet  
> ST: Yes, let's say... hmm... +5xp for MURDER PLOT STORY ARC  
> Inks: Awesome.  
> 

  
  



	20. Session 20: Industrial Advancement and Suleiman's Return!

Inks and Pipera arrived back at the manor to the sounds of an intense, high-stakes, deeply meaningful interrogation.

"Why?"

"... because they're mourning clothes. I'm not allowed to take them off."

"Why?"

"It's the rules. I wear them to honour my people."

"Oh." The interrogator paused for a moment, as if in thought. "Why?"

Tatters was saved from having to answer this as Inks cleared the doorway. A sopping wet Pesala was sat on the table with a bruised forehead, swinging her legs back and forth as she fired questions at Tatters.

For her part, the exorcist seemed to be seriously considering the courtyard roof as a potential escape route.

"It's times like this that I realize my family was fundamentally broken..." Inks mused, sauntering in with a bitter grin. "Pesala, please go dry up, I'd like to talk to our guest." She aimed a brighter, cheerful grin to Tatters, before glancing back at Pipera.

"'Kay," Pesala says cheerfully, swinging herself off the table and trotting off. Tatters' veiled face turns to watch her go, and seems to relax slightly as the mop of red curls disappears around a corner.

"Alright!" Inks clapped her hands with a gleeful light in her eye. "As long as you don't continue your crusade in the same way, the Despot and Gem at large won't bother you- and I believe I have need of an exorcist on my payroll. Are you by chance interested in a job?"

"That depends on the job," Tatters said, lacing her gloved hands together. Despite her apparent discomfort from Pesala's interrogation, she seemed to have regained more surety since their last conversation. "What do you need an exorcist for?"

"I'm aiming to reclaim El-Galabi, the monastery complex is infested with ghosts, including a corpulent Yidak, last I checked. I did a survey a few months ago."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Pretty sure it's a shadowland too,right?)  
> ST: ((It is, yes.))  
> 

Waving Pipera over, Inks nodded. "I haven't seen any evidence that these are _civil_ dead, so I think the best move is to get them out, by charm or force. El-Galabi is a rich locale and well-situated to become a satelite community to Gem."

>   
> ST: ((Remind me, has Inks told Pipera in any detail about her plans for El Galabi - or indeed her visit there?))  
> Inks: (This is likely the first mention. It's been a packed few weeks)  
> 

Tatters was silent for a moment. There was probably a telling expression underneath the veil, but of course Inks couldn't see what it was.

"Why reclaim it at all?" she asked after a pause for thought. "It's a place of death, and the Dead there are contained. Is it worth the lives they'll take in getting rid of them?"

"I'd like some more explanation of this, too," Pipera spoke up. "I've been looking through your business ventures, but this is news."

Inks nodded and called for Carsa, who hurried off to retrieve her folder of plans and notes regarding the monastery. "Years ago, maybe decades, a monk who 'glowed golden and blue like the noon sun' appeared and founded a community with good farms and willingness to police the 'yondu crypts'; not sure what those are yet'."

"But the point is, the monastery itself is sitting on good arable land and possibly other natural resources, to say nothing of whatever historical treasures can be found there. The Despot knows I have an eye on it, so I was aiming to arrange financing for a proper reclamation effort."

Pipera was frowning by the end of the explanation, and almost immediately began firing off questions. "It's a place of death now? An Underworld hollow? How did that happ- well, something killed them all, presumably. What was it? And how many ghosts are there?"

"It is presently a Shadowland, yes, and as far as I was told, a Wyld Hunt slew the monk and his followers all in one night. And yes, there are ghosts there, I saw sufficient evidence of them. The light in the complex is... too harsh for the living world. The shadows have ruler-straight edges." She shrugged. "I have no idea how many ghosts there are- 'Enough'."

She let the mark on her brow flare into being. "I _do_ know that when I'm full up and glowing, I am as true sunlight to the lesser dead, if that helps."

"It would if they were just ghosts - it will, for the ones that are," Tatters interjected. "But a lot of them are clothed in bodies, and that will protect them. And there's still the yidak lord."

"Right-" Inks nodded with a broad grin. "Either way, I want to reclaim this place and scrub the shadowland if possible. Are either of you interested?"

"Yes," Pipera said, instantly. "Well," she added almost as fast, "that is to say; it certainly needs to be dealt with. But... funds will be a problem for an undertaking like this... do you have magic that can restore it to life?"

Tatters took a little longer to consider, but eventually nodded slowly. "I'd rather you left it alone," she said. "But if you're going to attack a yidak lord regardless, I'll be there."

Inks hummed. "I don't know a specific spell, but I'm sure I could work something out." She nodded to Tatters. "We may _have_ to leave it alone, if we can't actually do anything right now." Smiling though, she grinned. "In the meantime though, how about we eat, and think on it some more.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so Pipera and Tatters are nominally on board)  
> ST: ((With differing levels of enthusiasm, yes.))  
> Inks: (is there a way for me to determine if I can attempt the shadowland cleansing with current assets, or do I have to metagame and work up to Solar Circle Sorcery?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. So, there are two known ways for cleansing a shadowland. One is salt. That would - assuming you could get the ghosts to politely refrain from attempting to horribly murder you - close the shadowland. It would also cost a small fortune in salt and utterly ruin the fertility of the land, making it useless for farming.))  
> ST: ((The other way is Light of Solar Cleansing in Adamant Circle Sorcery. IIRC, this efficiently closes the shadowland in one burst of solar essence with no ill effects on the land. Until more effort was put into fixing a salt-tainted region, i imagine. Like summoning elementals to rebalance it.)  
> ST: ((We can probably conclude that there are shadowland-closers in Emerald and Sapphire Circle Sorcery, just ones that work on smaller areas than Adamant and which damage the land (though not as much as salt-tainting it).))  
> ST: ((Or to put it another way, the lower the circle, the more damage, right down to zeroeth circle/mundane means, which basically wreck the place.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Alternatively, instead of a spell, a general Sorcerous Working.)  
> ST: ((A Working would probably be based on shifting the dragon lines to flush out the necrotic taint enough to close the hole into the Underworld.))  
> Inks: (so TCS, can in theory close a shadowland with 'mangable' damage as opposed to salt. Of course, step 1 is clearing the ghosts out. Now, I'd like to spend a project/downtime action finding and hopefully treating that Flame Duck, in exchange for an Ally or similar background as a sorcerous anchor. Are there any rolls I need to take?)  
> ST: ((Okay, first declare whether you're using Inks or assigning Pipera to do it. As a general note; while she's got high raw ability stats, her Bureaucracy Style focus is as an _accountant_ and _negotiator_ rather than a salesperson or governor - she's the consultant that organizations call in to sort out their messes (which makes her pretty suited to the rolling mess that is Inks crashing through economies).))  
> Inks: (Inks will take the lead on finding the flame duck. Lemme write a stunt)  
> 

* * *

After lunch, Inks turned her attention to some lingering loose ends over the months. Her relationship with the Sun Market traders was tenuous and at times a sour thought in her mind, but right now she accepted the necessity. Tracking the slaves that once belonged to Tatter's 'unfortunate' victim was no easy feat, but she at least wanted to make sure they were being taken care of as well as slaves were in Gem...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Wow, that was a boring stunt. Oh well, Can't ace them 100% of the time)  
> ST: ((Okay, Int+Bureaucracy to track them down, Diff 3. +5 external penalty from Inks not technically having any access to his records and also the Sun Market being highly secretive, anonymous and a tiny bit in uproar from one of its senior members being brutally murdered.))  
> ST: ((2-die stunt.))  
> Inks: (Dang. Okay...)  
> Inks: (I'm going to spend 6 mortal xp on Bur 4 and 5, before rolling 12d + 5 autosux, which negates the -5 penalty)  
> Inks: !ex 12 +5 -5; Inks: [1, 6, 2, 7, 4, 7, 3, 6, 8, 7, 2, 8] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Threshold of 2!)  
> ST: ((Heh. Fair enough.))  
> Inks: (I also now am imagining Pipera going 'wait, two weeks ago you were like, middle-manager. Now you're- assdfadfaf'; Granted she's a DB, she experiences the same thing all the time.)  
> 

It was one of the trickiest challenges Inks had ever set herself, but she rose to the challenge. In fact, she was fairly sure that her skills were sharpened by the experience. The Sun Market hadn't opened since the murder, but she knew the public identity of the man who'd been killed. Starting with that, she combed through his known associates; bargaining, wheedling, promising, reassuring, flirting and subtly threatening until she found a lead, and then followed it through to one of the other slavers who'd been there that day.

The man was far from happy that she'd identified him, but her hunch was borne out. The dead man's property had been divided up among the other merchants - and lucky her, she'd managed to happen across the one who'd walked off with most of the slaves on her first try!  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, he has the flame duck.))  
> Inks: (Yeah, I assume the next part of the challenge is getting her)  
> 

With access, Inks turned to charm and logic, illustrating a picture of wealth and prosperity and most importantly _discretion_ , as the Sun Marketeers valued their anonymity. Safely ensconced in a private meeting room dripping with gauzy silk hangings, plush, embroidered pillows, and hired courtesans, Inks enthusiastically agreed that wealth and prestige were fine and good- she also made no secret of her altruistic intentions.

She carefully evaluated the trader's 'inventory', noting their condition and value before making a case that the current, depressed market would not bounce back any time soon. "Better to liquidate now, and wait until the market's better."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Insightful Buyer and Frugal Merchant Method. I know market values, negate [essence 3] market penalties, and can immediately estimate the quality of what I'm looking at. I am keeping this open ended-)  
> Inks: (so If I roll well, I might get more--- I actually am feeling bad about writing the word 'slaves' here when discussing people. Odd that. Anyway, Am prepared to roll!)  
> ST: ((Okay, so the flame duck _was_ Res 4, and has probably fallen to Res 3. Hmm. You have, however, been making quite a few Res-4-dropped-to-Res-3 purchases, so Inks' budget should be getting pretty tight at this point. Ah, but... hah. It's a new year. Renewed budget. Cool.))  
> ST: ((Roll me Int+Socialize at Diff 3 to think of another possible price-dropping tactic.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks: [5, 1, 9, 7, 5, 9, 4, 1,] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Inks realizes that the Sun Market slavers are probably still scared that whatever killed their fellow merchant might still be gunning for them. Playing on that fear might make him a lot more willing to offload merchandise that could get a target painted on his back.))  
> 

Seizing on an opportunity, Inks carefully made an implication- "considering the recent upset, it the market might just not be very hospitable to this sort of thing... and everybody knows by now that I'm a bit of an emancipator. Win-win."

>   
> ST: ((... I should also actually give you the roll, which is Manipulation+Bureaucracy at Diff 6.))  
> ST: ((aaaand that dropped it to Diff 4 by playing off another Principle))  
> ST: ((continue!))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3 "Man 2 Bur 5, +1d 1st excellency, +3sux 2nd"; Inks: [10, 3, 1, 5, 5, 8, 7, 8, 10, 5] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Oh yeah, and +1 sux from Frugal Merchant, or +3 if he's dishonest)  
> ST: ((... welp.))  
> ST: ((Is Inks willing to take the fire butterfly?))  
> Inks: (hhmmm... yes, but she'll likely cover it up or similar before figuring out how to release it safely and happily for everyone.)  
> 

After some intense haggling, some more veiled hinted threats and a small panic attack on the slaver's part that Inks defused by talking him through it; Inks walked away with a chained-up flame duck on a metal leash and a fabric-draped cage containing an elemental that would probably try to kill her as soon as it saw her face.

While the chains and leash were distasteful, the fact remained that the green-skinned woman did nothing but sit and stare into space if left to her own devices, so leading her by it was necessary to get her back to the manor for an examination.

Once there, it was just a few minutes effort identifying the elemental's problems, if any. She stepped around the Flame Duck, discerning and intent.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis, long-mode; does Inks understand what is wrong with her, or does she get the 'I don't know what this is' return?)  
> ST: ((Heh, I was hoping you'd skip straight to the long mode, because the answer to the "is this medically relevant Y/N" is best described as "it's complicated". So, hmm. Give me a Diff 4 Int+Occult roll since it's not _purely_ a medical issue, but Flawless Diagnosis still kinda helps work out what it is.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; Inks: [2, 6, 4, 1, 2, 8, 2, 4] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

After a few circuits, some testing of the elemental's responses and, of course, _getting the damn chains off her_ , Inks still hadn't identified anything _medically_ wrong with her. It wasn't a head injury or any sort of degenerative sickness - and it didn't seem to be psychological trauma instead; she had no stress responses.

In fact, given her apparent age, Inks suspected the opposite was true. It wasn't damage to a pre-existing person, it was that the person hadn't finished forming yet. Some breeds of elemental, she recalled, started out sub-sapient; akin to magical creatures who acted in accordance with the natural cycle of the elements.

What had happened to this poor slave was probably that she'd crossed the threshold of sapience... and almost immediately thereafter been captured. Chained up in magical bindings, her development would have stopped - and an attractive, magical slave whose entire personality a buyer could tailor as it developed _would_ be a valuable prize, wouldn't it?  
  


>   
> ST: ((So basically, now that the chains are off, she'll resume her mental development again - much faster than a human - and Inks will be able to influence how she turns out.))  
> Inks: (... Well then. (Alright, so that can happen more or less as we do other things. Checking some notes... Alright, so I think the next step is securing support for the reclaimation of El-Galabi. So looking for investors, backers, etc. Hmm... )  
> ST: ((As a suggestion, Inks _could_ viably try to increase her Resources in Gem itself, via a project action of investing and takeovers and growing her assets and Bureaucracy-fu and so on.))  
> Inks: (Alright, as per our hacked version of HAM, I can train a Mag 1 unit (10 people) in a single trait as a Trivial Action. So in addition to the project actions needed for getting those backers lined up, Inks will be training Pesala, Ajjim and the Flame Duck (name tbd); Ahh,, as per your suggestion, that sounds like a good idea.)  
> Inks: (Is this going to be a Minor or Major Action? Also re training, definitely Carsa too; Pipera and Tatters can join in if they like.)  
> ST: ((Hmm. So what Res rating are you looking to get to? Res 5, or "as high as she can go in Gem?"))  
> Inks: (Go big or go home! Also I'd like to be reasonably specific, like, buying out industrial properties, manufacturing and the like. I want to own them and then I can improve them with magic (and maybe demons)  
> ST: ((Cool. So that means Seventh or Eighth Scorpion, which will she focus on?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, though if for whatever reason an opportunity comes up, she'd snatch it)  
> Inks: (once you tell me the terms/penalties, I can start stunting)  
> ST: ((... which of the two districts will she focus on buying out a bunch of places? Eighth is where she is; the "wet stuff". Seventh is mechanical, repairs, forges, etc.))  
> Inks: (Seventh, near where she lives iirc.)  
> ST: ((Eighth is the one she's in. But yeah, cool.))  
> Inks: (blah, never can remember!)  
> ST: ((Right, so, hmm. What will she have Pipera and Tatters do during this period? Or rather, will she assign Pipera to help buy out places, and will she ask Tatters to do anything specific?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Assuming Pipera does not have her own idea- and Inks is perfectly willing to trust Pipera's initiative, Inks would... Hmm. Inks is going to direct Pipera to either locate a bank that 'can' be taken over (and doing so if she can), or look into the particulars of establishing one. As for Tatters, Inks encourages her to enjoy the manor hospitality, continue her research, and so on. However...)  
> Inks: (I don't know if Tatters is willful enough to not up and attack injustice when she sees it, if she can control how she acts, Inks would encourage her to scout for injustices and bring them to Inks's attention.)  
> ST: ((She's Conviction 5 as well as Compassion 5; she's certainly _capable_ of holding herself back.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Hmm. For now I'd feel comfortable with Tatters staying at the manor for the moment.)  
> ST: ((That, Inks can't guarantee - she's likely to disappear off again at some point, though she won't be actively avoiding Inks this time - just staying elsewhere.))  
> Inks: (Fair enough, since Tatters is Ally 3, I feel comfortable in the notion that she won't compulsively derail the game. I think we're good to proceed!)  
> ST: ((Cool. Last point - it's Ascending Water as we start this seasonal roll, and Suleiman is due back in Resplendent Water for a month-long stop on his trade route. So, work his visit into your stunt if you wish, and roll Int+Bur for Inks, and also for Pipera (12+8 Excellency+stunt).))  
> Inks: (So Inks: Buying up Seventh (Dry industries); Pipera: Buying or Starting a Bank; Tatters is as Tatters Does. Stunting! And by seasonal you mean a full 12 weeks? Inks can train her selected people 12 dots in that time.)  
> ST: ((Yup. Pipera can also take a Minor action to assist Inks. What will she be training her chosen ducklings in? And will she also include those models from the Sunken Bazaar who I have, uh, forgotten to do much with?))  
> ST: ((... and Telalsi, probably.))  
> Inks: (due to how the charm works, I'm most advantaged by keeping the current class small, 1 dot/week instead of 1 dot every minor action for a mag [ess] unit; I'll trust you to decide what timing i use, but- 2 dots of Intelligence, 2 dots of Perception, then 2 dots in lore, pres, and socialize. Thats 10 dots total, taking 10 weeks or 10 minor actions.)  
> 

Having resolved those lingering issues, Inks turned her attention and incredible drive to one of her great passions- business! Driving forth with a will, she knocked on doors, glad-handed up to managers and title holders. There she carefully leveraged her assets both physical and mercantile, flirting and financing with an artful degree of skill and poise.

Days moved into weeks, where she sought out contracts and buyouts with forges, kiln works, foundries and carpenters. Cabinet makers and textile mills. The hard, plastic industrial sector was going to fall under her spell. Pipera too weighed in, aiming Inks in the most devastating of directions and offering a glib comment or two when to lead with her legs or hips- and when *not* to.

As the month changed over into the refreshing Ascending Water, Suleiman, distant paramour and grand dramatic soul that he was, returned to see his lady-love hard at work, bent over her desk and furiously scribing contract and bank draft. She took a moment to greet him, with a great fond hug and open invitation to enjoy the baths after his hard travels.

Finally, at the edge of her ability to keep up and loving every second of it, Inks made time to pay forward the effort and attention Alakananda had put into her. Wild and willful, Pesala was still a darling student, and Ajjim was no less a proud father for her progress, even as he himself was enriched by Inks's almost one-on-one tutelage. Telasi and Carsa too shared in this, and Inks gifted unto them talent and skill they only dared dream about.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, two-die stunt. Roll it.))  
> Inks: (I invoke motivation rules to upgrade my stunt by 1d)  
> Inks: (as this is 'build a mercantile empire)  
> ST: ((Good point))  
> Inks: !ex 27 "Int 5 Bur 5, +3 stunt, +5 Conviction channel, +10 excellency dice. Big money!"; Inks: [8, 4, 8, 9, 3, 6, 6, 2, 5, 2, 10, 9, 8, 2, 10, 5, 6, 9, 9, 9, 2, 1, 7, 6, 2, 3, 9] was rolled for successes.  
> Inks: !ex "Pipera"; Inks: [3, 4, 1, 4, 3, 6, 9, 7, 10, 2, 2, 5, 9, 10, 8, 4, 3, 3, 7, 3, 7, 9] was rolled for 11 successes.  
> 

By the time Resplendent Earth rolled around, Inks was a wealthy, wealthy woman. Many of the businesses in Seventh now traced their ownership back to her - or at least controlling interests - and designs and business strategies trickled back down the money-channels to enrich them further.

Tatters disappeared after only a week or so in the manor, though she returned on one or two occasions to sit by the baths and meditate. Inks thought she felt a protective presence hovering around her during some of her talks with more aggressive business prospects. Pipera, on the other hand, was an almost constant presence, digging through account books and advising Inks on financial strategy.

"I'll admit, the demon theory is looking less likely," was her comment at one point after visiting the orphanage Inks had set up. When Carsa had asked if she'd come to this conclusion after seeing madame Inks' generous nature, Pipera had shaken her head. "A demon would be better organized," she'd quipped. But she'd been smirking as she'd said it.

Her students advanced rapidly, and upon his recovery, Ajjim decided to stall his return to desert exploration for a couple more months to better soak up the education program she'd put together.

And her pet project, the young flame duck, had grown in only a season from a largely-vacant shell to a vibrant and brazen member of the retinue, picking a name for herself at Inks' suggestion.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Inks is now highish Res 5.))  
> ST: ((Expansion outside Gem - such as deeper investment into Suleiman's business and the Firepeak Pave or El Galabi or setting up something with the mountain lords - will push her over into Res 6 fairly easily.))  
> ST: ((You can also choose the flame duck's name, and decide what you did with the fire butterfly.))  
> Inks: (I in the most polite and not-upsetting way possible, released the fire butterfly to pursue its fortunes however it liked. As for the Flame Duck... how about Vahti?)  
> Inks: (addendum, fire butterfly- I would like to get some of its wing dust before letting it go)  
> Inks: (Let's check in with Suleiman- is he still in Gem?)  
> ST: ((No, he only stays for a month. We can run a during-scene from when before he left, though))  
> Inks: (cool. Thinking..)  
> Inks: (Okay, writing scene start)  
> 

During that that oh so busy month of Resplendent Water, Inks carved out an evening for the man who in a very real sense, made everything up to this point possible- oh they both knew she could have done it without him, but without Maji and his advice, Inks would have charted a much different course.

As was becoming her custom, she'd quietly urged her house staff to give them a little privacy, and she'd prepared a lush meal for just the two of them, though Maji did prowl around and take a particularly rare cut of meat from Inks's waiting fingers. The tiger offered Suleiman a tolerant stare before padding off into the shadows.

At the main table on the bottom floor, baths bubbling cheerfully nearby, Inks was dressed in splendor, almost glowing. "Glad you could join me. I have food, and I have business- two wonderful things!"  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 20 "Int+Craft on dinner"; Inks: [2, 9, 3, 7, 7, 9, 3, 9, 4, 7, 4, 4, 9, 8, 8, 9, 10, 7, 7, 1] was rolled for 14 successes.  
> ST: ((haha))  
> ST: ((wut))  
> ST: ((14 sux))  
> ST: ((Okay, uh... let me see))  
> 

"Beloved," Suleiman greeted with a sweeping bow. He seemed reverential, but was carefully skirting the edge of worshipful. Apparently a man who'd remembered their last visit. "I am truly blessed by your company, for you grow more brilliant and beautiful each time I see you."

"And I miss your grand flattery." Inks smirked. "Most folks leer a bit more." It was always an odd mix, her blunt informality and Suleiman's bombastic, verbose personality. Inks made up for it with the depth and breadth of her expressions, wide charming smiles, dancing eyes and so on. "Sit, eat, then we discuss profit." So urged, Inks waited until he started in on the meal, sublimely confident of its quality.

One thing Suleiman was always a sure bet for was appreciating the decadent pleasures of life. As a man who spent much of his time on a sandship or caravan, moving through sweltering terrain and enduring sun, sandstorms and the occasional hostile spirit, he held little back in vocalizing his appreciation of the fine food.

As the meal continued, Inks gradually had the plates and courses removed, and replaced with thin folders and summarized reports of assets. The dessert plate remained center stage- imported iced cherries and rich chocolate sauce. Rising from her side, she gently moved an open ledger in front of him, before standing behind his chair and letting her arms drape over his shoulders. "I'm in the middle of a sudden acquisitions spree, but that's a fairly accurate estimate of my holdings come a few months. I have enough capital to invest in your trade caravan, and can include competitive rates on Gem-derived exports."  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [9] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Lol, his Temperance roll - with a pretty severe penalty from Inks being Inks))  
> 

Inks got to bear witness to Suleiman fighting a valiant, agonizing battle to focus on the ledgers in front of him rather than the woman behind him. Despite the... _forces_ , arrayed against him, he just about managed it.

While she had no doubt he was hyper-aware of every point of contact between them, he managed a passably convincing job of seeming unaffected as he scanned across the ledger. She certainly felt the moment he started parsing the amounts involved, because he stiffened in shock, forgot his struggle to focus vanished and leaned forward with a soft sound of interest.

"... my love," he murmured after a few more minutes. "This is astonishing growth." He traced down one of the income columns, his lips moving silently as he followed the flow of money from her various properties. "Do you intend to take over the entire..." he started, then broke off with a bark of laughter. "Hah. Of course you do. You told me as much when we met."

"Yeeeep." Inks grinned. "Shall I make the arrangements for the investment then?"

Suleiman grinned boyishly. "A union of wealth? Of course!" He rose, spun with a flourish, and took her in for a moment. "When I next return to Gem," he said seriously, "you must allow me to host you for an evening in turn - without a wedding to spoil your enjoyment of the outing. I will be sure by then to have prepared an experience worthy of you - my honour on it!"

Grinning, Inks let out a low, warm laugh and eased into the embrace before carefully unwinding herself from his arms. Leaning over the table, she plucked a cherry from the bowl and swiped it through the choclate, before delicately nipping the morsel. "Looking forward to it." She let out a pleasant sounding purr. "However..."

"Our night isn't over yet." Turning smartly on one heel, she took the few deliberate strides to the edge of her baths, pulling at one single tie and letting her gown fall away in one smooth pool of gauzy silk. "Don't you agree?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, heh. One thing Inks is aware of from previous association with him is that Suleiman has a high-level Intimacy towards belief in "True Love". How's she going to frame this to fit that belief, since I assume she's not suddenly turning monogamous? She doesn't necessarily need to erode it, but she does need to way to resolve his belief in "True Love" with the sort of relationship she wants them to have.))  
> Inks: (That's a good question... I'm having trouble putting my thoughts into words, but you're right, she's not monogamous, but that doesn't mean she can't foster strong reciprocal relationships with people. Her capacity for admiration, affection and love is wide, but not thoughtless.)  
> Inks: (I was aiming to conclude this sequence with firming up an intimacy on Inks's side of 'Fond affection' for Suleiman, which can build up into a stronger descriptor at some point in the future.)  
> ST: ((Yup. But you ran into an Intimacy. Basically, hmm. Through Suleiman's eyes, Inks is his True Love. He's going to want assurance that he shares the same status in her eyes. Now, while of course he would ideally want marriage and monogamy and so on all in a bundle, he's not a stupid man.))  
> ST: ((He'll be willing to accept that Inks isn't in love with him _yet_ , and she may well be able to talk him into accepting an open relationship while he's away since he's away for much of the year - such things aren't unknown among merchants who travel a lot like him.))  
> ST: ((But he's still not likely to go for a casual thing that's likely to remain casual.))  
> Inks: (Aye, Gotcha. So he's actually hesitating, right now is what you're getting at).  
> ST: ((Yup. Wanted to clear that up before continuing.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, carry on then! )  
> 

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped - along with a few other physical reactions that were very satisfying for Inks' ego. But after a couple of steps forward that seemed more directed by his libido than his brain, Suleiman hesitated.

"Beloved," he said hoarsely, obviously holding back only with intense effort. "What are... do you mean to say you are accepting my suit? Are we to be..."

The flirty look shifted to something more heartfelt, apologetic almost. "I'm not the type to get married. Too much of my old life is tied up in that sort of thing. We've known each other for two, almost three years now, granted, just a month at a time."

She turned just far enough so he could see her face more clearly, still unmistakably nude but urging him to look her in the eye. "But you've been my backer, advisor, and most importantly a _friend_ I know I can count on, logical and emotional in equal measure. I'm not in love with you, Suleiman... but who knows what happens next?"

"I'd like to be something for you, not a wife or girl-at-port, but I'm open to the idea... we'd spend most of the year apart as it is, and we're committed to our empires. I'd be happy to meet you half way."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Convincing stunt finished. Roll?)  
> ST: ((Quick clarification first - is she willing to keep her dalliances with other people to the 12-13 months when he's gone, and refrain during the times he's in Gem?))  
> ST: ((No need to add to the stunt, just for my understanding.))  
> Inks: (Entirely reasonable, sure. We may revisit this later depending, because again, mortals _fantasize_ about threesomes.)  
> Inks: (but for the sake of Suleiman's peace of mind and their developing relationship, that's totally in-line with how Inks wants to go, respecting his wishes as he respects hers.)  
> ST: ((Cool. Then roll Cha+Presence against his MDV 5 (after modifiers) to convince him to go for it.))  
> Inks: (Sexy Stunner Style applies)  
> Inks: !ex 13 +5; Inks: [6, 6, 2, 6, 5, 2, 5, 1, 2, 8, 10, 5, 9] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Her words hit home, and passion flares in his expression as his eyes wander down her curves and then back up again. "Then,"he said huskily, shucking his shirt and moving forward to wrap an arm around her waist, "a meeting halfway it shall be."

>   
> ST: (( _bam chika wow wow~_ ))  
> ST: ((And I think end on that note?))  
> Inks: (Works for me!)  
> Inks: (Question, did Pipera actually secure that Bank, or no?)  
>  ST: ((Technically the banks are a Trasti monopoly, but Inks has part-ownership of the Three Jewel Bank she first came to when setting up in Gem - enough that she can influence their direction.))  
> Inks: Gotcha, thanks for clarifying. We can discuss the actual assets Inks now controls later I guess, but I had a lot of fun today.  
> Inks: I did want to declare something- I'm not disinterested in Pipera and Tatter's backstory, but I admit some of my real-world stress has been bleeding into my game  
> ST: ?  
> Inks: which is to say, I'm in a low-agency situation, so I was firmly invested in getting things moving, of _having_ agency  
> Inks: at least in this small space  
> Inks: which you handled admirably and I'm sure was not at all apparent  
> ST: ah. cool  
> ST: yeah, I'll be honest. I started on that note mostly because I missed the opportunity to have Pesala come out and try to hit Tatters with a stick last session  
> ST: and I really wanted her to have canonically done that : V  
> Inks: Heh, and yeah, Pesala asking 'why' was adorable  
> Inks: I had to hold myself back from interrupting  
> ST: : D  
> Inks: on that note, imagine Pesala now with Int +2 and Per +2  
> ST: yes  
> Inks: also, clarify- how long was this downtime burst?  
> ST: thank you so much for giving her a 6-dot pool for Per+Awa rolls.  
> ST: I'm sure she won't misuse that at all  
> ST: One season, so it's now moving into Resplendent Earth  
> Inks: Gotcha, we were in resplendent water, now resplendent earth, got it.  
> Inks: for the moment, Inks has a res 5 background described roughly as 'Seventh Scorpion Industrial Quarter', the 'Dry' industries  
> ST: well, you were in Ascending Water, the search for flame-duck-chan put you into Resplendent  
> ST: yah  
> Inks: gotcha, cool  
> Inks: Alright, so is Vahti a background/Anchor yet?  
> Inks: I'm going to assume that she'll stay at the manor unless being an Elemental makes her ill-suited to that  
> ST: Yeah, Ally. Or possibly, uh... inverse-Mentor? Student? Retainer?  
> ST: w/e, yes, she's a background  
> Inks: Ally works for now.   
> ST: 2 dots at the moment, since she's a bb!elemental  
> ST: she has two forms; the green-skinned red-haired babe, and a, uh  
> ST: duck  
> ST: made of flame  
> ST: hence the name flame duck  
> ST: radical namers, these Creation occultists  
> Inks: I recall the writeup  
> Inks: she's short, fit and hot  
> Inks: *rimshot*  
> ST: indeed  
> ST: oh yes  
> ST: https://i.imgur.com/ERNbuxd.png  
> Inks: Nice  
> 


	21. Session 21: Festival Life and the Forbidden Chamber of House Trasti

Resplendent Earth's full moon is, for reasons Inks is a little vague on, a holiday for the people of Gem. This doesn't exactly mean /time off/, but there's a lot of celebrating and drinking and parading and drinking and gift-giving and showing off and drinking. The Despot always frees a lot of slaves and lowers water prices as a public gesture of generosity, and if Inks has noticed a spike babies with a birthday sometime in the middle of Air these past couple of years... well, that's only to be expected.

On this particular midyear festival, Inks is woken in bed by an unrefined but enthusiastic massage and a curvy body pressed closer than perhaps is strictly necessary.

"Morning, mistress!" Vahti greets her cheerfully. "What's on today?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Rolled temp 2, failed)  
> ST: ((Iiiiiinks))  
> 

"You on me, among other things." Inks squirmed beneath the Elemental for a moment before twisting around to beg off a quick kiss. "Mmmph. Pleasurable Business before pleasurable pleasure." She let Vahti work her magic- the Flame Duck's hands were warm, the soak-in-deep kind of heat that a native of Gem couldn't appreciate unless they lived deep under ground. Or had an adamant gemstone on their forehead that kept the sun off all day.

Taking a moment to call Pipera in, Inks curled deeper into the cushions. When the black-haired woman arrived, Inks hummed. "I've got a fair amount planned- I was aiming to visit one of the Trasti establishments, maybe run into grand Scion Gion, if he's in Gem. Charm, flirt, win or lose some petty cash."

Pipera for her part had long since gotten used to her boss's exhibitionist streak, merely nodding while Inks continued to plan aloud. "I'd spend the morning making some new outfits for us all though- if either of you want to join me. Any thoughts, before I mention the next item on my agenda?" She let out a low, husky sigh when Vahti's fingers started in on her thighs.

"Am I right in guessing that 'petty cash' translates to 'hundreds of dinars'?" Pipera asked rhetorically. Vahti merely grinned.

"More or less." Inks confirmed. "Ideally I'd like to make some inroads towards securing authority over Three-Jewels Bank, or being able to start my own without undue hassle." Vahti continued the massage with a giddy laugh while Inks hummed. "After that, I want to see about expanding my Hepatizon facility, maybe including a Vitriol plant- I can summon Metody, but I haven't had a chance or reason to. Also It'd be a good idea to talk to House Iblan, and arrange for an order of gold. I can make warding talismans against the dead with the right materials- do you think you can procure what I need?" She directed that last question to Pipera.

"Without much issue," Pipera confirmed. "Oh, and you asked me last month to remind you to look over those plans from Hinna an-Reswah once your economic growth was at a stable point, which it now is."

It was, Inks reflected, very convenient that Pipera seemed to have a semi-eidetic memory. Among other things, it meant there was no need for her to carry a clipboard or diary, so she could tell Inks about her schedule even in the baths. And it also meant that when Inks casually mentioned something over her shoulder while out in town or buried in work, her aide remembered it.

"Thank you for reminding me-" Inks pushed herself up to give the woman one of her full, noonday sun grins, and then Vahti pounced and started working the knots out around her neck. There was a bit of wrestling, and the imported silk sheets barely rasped against skin or bedding. "O-Okay. On the note of the talismans, I can likely make an arrangement with the Rangers too..." She made a few more notes and observations aloud, idly brainstorming while Vahti practiced. "I think the last thing on my list is training a cadre of professional doctors and architects, for House Sahlak and Bhalasus respectively."

"Have Telasi come over at her earliest convenience, I think she'd like the profession."

Pipera nodded once; committing it to memory. "On that note, Ajjim has elected to leave for another trip into the desert now that his studies are over, and intends to depart tomorrow afternoon. He's asked if Pesala can stay here while he is gone - I gave a provisional yes since I doubt you'll object. The Despot has informed us he'll be making use of your baths during the festival, and..."

There were a few other updates, most of them about her new properties in Seventh Scorpion - nothing particularly concerning. With her morning update out of the way and her muscles nicely relaxed from Vahti's pampering, Inks was ready to roll out of bed and begin the day's business.

Rising languidly, Inks gave the elemental another flirty, friendly kiss and bounced off to her wardrobe, from there, it was time to create!

* * *

A quick visit to the Sunken Bazaar left her flush with fine silks, thread, leather and other odds and ends, fit enough for a noble merchant princess- she bought enough to expand the wardrobes of Pipera, Vahti and Tatters if the exorcist were ever interested, though Inks assumed they'd have still been mourning clothes in the fashion she prefered. Either way, she sought out a good deal and navigated numerous supply shortcomings with grace and speed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Insightful Buyer/Frugal Merchant on getting the materials)  
> ST: ((Yeah, if she's just getting raw materials, that's a trivial purchase for her - Res 2.))  
> 

Inks: From there she was a whirl of industrious effort, hands a blur as she stitched silvered and gilded thread into silk, satin and chiffon. She consulted an astrological treatise on the domains of Venus and her numerous gods of passion and fashion, of the workings of the human body and the complimentary aesthetic. The body geomancy took form beneath her hand, calculated to catch the eye and keep it.

>   
> ST: ((Question! What sort of tailoring is she doing for Pipera re: "showing off skin", particularly in the areas she knows Pipera has tattoos?))  
> Inks: (Good question-, Currently focusing on Vahti)  
> 

Inks: Borrowing Vahti as a model, she endeavored to for flattery and finesse, embroidering runes of strength, cleanliness, and potent sexuality. Her masterwork though was an invocation to a distant god of air, who's domain was best summarized as 'things that go up but do not come down'. The humor was apparent, as she modeled her own completed gown alongside Vahti's similarly cut masterpiece.

>   
> Inks: (Lemme roll these first, before asking Pipera, we can assume Vahti already had her say and was 'Inks yes')  
> ST: ((Naturally.))  
> Inks: (So craft stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yup, 2 dice.))  
> Inks: (Gonna roll 22 dice then, +1wp for autosux)  
> Inks: (14 successes)  
> 

The dresses for herself and Vahti were of course masterpieces, the likes of which weren't seen even on the Despot's favorites. Vahti was overjoyed at hers, shedding the attire she'd worn to the Sunken Bazaar and practically diving on the gown once it was complete.

Pipera, by contrast, took one look at it and turned a flat stare towards Inks.

"No," she said with resigned exasperation. "If it shows more skin than what I've got on now; I'm not wearing it."

Oh well, Inks thought. At least she was more comfortable speaking her mind now. She'd have to ease Pipera into more flattering cuts gently. If not over the course of several decades.

With that thought in mind, Inks idly rubbed her chin. "Honestly I like the challenge." She pointedly did not say what the challenge actually was, but she was grinning while she said it. She finished lacing up her heeled shoes- she'd never made anything like them before, so it was a novel experience.  
  


>   
> Inks: (What is Pipera wearing right now, anyway?)  
> ST: ((Pipera generally wears pale-coloured jackets and trousers or skirts instead of robes or dresses - light and airy to deal with the heat, but... okay, bluntly, she basically wears the far-southern desert equivalent of various lady powersuits. She's pretty modest in the cuts she chooses, and Inks has never seen her go bare-armed or backless, let alone flash cleavage or thigh. She tends to oscillate between having her hair in a bun, a ponytail or a braid, and only lets it down loose in the manor.))  
> Inks: (That helps a lot, thanks!)  
> ST: ((Incidentally, I'm going to assume that Inks forgot to send that Messenger to 'Nanda asking about Pipera's people.))  
> Inks: (...yeah I did forget, I'll do that later at some point)  
> ST: ((Possibly because she suddenly found herself very busy trying to make Ajjim not die.))  
> 

Taking a moment to circle around Pipera, who had an unmistakable, hackles-raised wariness about her, Inks hummed. "You keep acting tense around me, and I'll... give you a massage or something, I don't know." She eyed the cut of the woman's outfit, noting the specific style. "I think I have an idea."

Turning back to her tools and Charms, Inks blurred into motion. If the first two gowns were all about sensual impact and unrestrained femininity, Pipera's would be instead absolute competence and self-assurance. She chose the finest fabrics she could, with an eye towards cooling and comfort while maintaining that razor-sharp professional edge. 

A smart, expertly cut jacket was next, with the option for a more flirtatious mode if Pipera ever wanted. The skirt was snug and made of interlocking panels, matched neatly with sturdy stockings that warded off sand and sweat. She made sure Pipera could see every decision, veto or approve as the outfit took form. "You don't even have to come with us, if you don't want to. I just wanted to include you." She later said.

Finally, she held up the completed work, waiting for Pipera's approval.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((Heh. 2 dice.))  
> Inks: (7 successes this time)  
> 

Inks wasn't entirely satisfied with it, to be honest. Oh, it wasn't _awful_ , but it was merely a masterpiece that any mortal workshop would be proud of and count among their finest pieces. She could do better - maybe it was just lack of practice at designing non-sultry things.

Nonetheless, a smile touched Pipera's lips as she took it in, and Inks smirked at the tone of reluctantly-impressed-and-slightly-charmed that was like pulling teeth to get out of the woman. "It's... acceptable," she admitted. "I suppose it would be a shame to have it and not take it out during a festival like this, even if I have work to do..."

Yeah, Inks decided smugly as Vahti took the cue to pat her on the back. She was making good progress here.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. Also for clarity, I am still interested in Pipera's backstory/those tattoos, but I'm not in a rush to push)  
> ST: ((That Messenger might help~))  
> Inks: (True, true.)  
> 

"Alright" Inks clapped her hands. "Ladies, we're going to have a great evening, in the meantime, let's do what errands we can before the main event." Vahti rushed off with a gleeful peal of laughter, and Inks waited for Pipera to leave. When she did, Inks sauntered into one of her more private rooms and called Maji to her side. A brief, fierce shaping of Essence imbued her tiger with speed and the authority of her own voice, and she sought guidance from distant Nexus, and one Alakananda. "Do you by chance know anything about the 'Kusaboin'?"

>   
> ST: ((It'll be several hours for him to travel to Nexus and for 'Nanda's reply to come back. Will Inks do anything else with the day?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Nothings coming to mind right away, but I'm open to suggestions.)  
> ST: ((Could go out on the town a little early, could stunt the arrival of the Despot to use her baths, could go over those notes from Hinna.))  
> Inks: (When in doubt, why not more than one!)  
> 

* * *

Setting her new dress aside and donning a more casual house robe, Inks retrieved the initial project and research drafts from Assayer Hinna, and set down at her main courtyard table for a pleasant, intellectually stimulating early afternoon. The woman was brilliant, and driven. More so than Inks in some ways, or at least less cagey about her drives. Sunlight harvesting methods, distillation of Solar Essence, notes on geomantic influence. It reminded her of some of 'Nanda's library, in fact.

Halfway through the folder, there was a knock on the door and Carsa hurried to open it. She did an incredible job of maintaining decorum when confronted with a guard of the Despot... and Rankar VII himself. Gem's sovereign overlord entered, and Inks stood up to greet him. "Welcome sir, I hope you're enjoying the festivities."

From the way his eyes lit up, he definitely appreciated her new dress. "Lady Inks," he greeted her, ignoring Carsa - who in fairness seemed thoroughly relieved to be ignored. "I've come to take advantage of your hospitality and your baths. Will you grant me your company?"

"I'll stick my feet in, though I'd appreciate it greatly if we don't splash." She gathered up her materials and had one of her other house staff bring a low table out for her reading. Carsa hurried off for refreshments, and Inks waited for Rankar to take the plunge.

He disrobed without much shame - likely used to being unclothed in the presence of beautiful women - and Inks' sharp eye noted that under the expensive robes he was a more than a little soft around the middle from his various indulgences. Still, he had an array of old scars that bore out the word that he'd been a swordsman of some repute once, even if she suspected his skills had slipped since then.

Leaning back in the water, he seemed content for the moment to soak and enjoy the cool while Inks read. Her reading material, however, was proving... well, it had started out fascinating and it wasn't any less so now. It was just getting a bit disturbing. There were notes on drug treatments; means to stimulate the mind, purify the body and open the gates of consciousness. The doctor in Inks winced at many and outright _screamed_ at some.

The pages on mercury amalgams were particularly cringe-worthy, and Inks stopped reading for a moment to ponder. How this woman was alive, if she'd taken all of these potions herself, was a miracle - in fact, it was probably impossible. She was either testing them on other people first, or had means beyond mortal healing to save her from her mistakes, or both.

There were also some rather worrying hints at what so much distilled sunlight might be used for in the context of a properly purified body, but Hinna was being hedgy about those in the notes she'd seen fit to give Inks for review. If she wanted more detail, she'd have to talk to the woman in person.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Occult, Diff 4, -2 external penalty from the text hedging and concealing bits and pieces))  
> Inks: (gonna be 8d +4 autosux... lol, 7 on 8, +4, total of 11 sux)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Inks is almost certain that Hinna has a stomach bottle bug either bound or trapped by thaumaturgy, because otherwise she would be fucking dead. Her inner doctor is quietly screaming at some of these alchemical recipes.))  
> ST: ((There are also some notes about deliberately irradiating herself with Solar essence to acclimatise her body to the stuff, which are making Inks' inner doctor quietly whimper.))  
> Inks: (Dang.)  
> ST: ((It's brilliant stuff. It's just also horrifically self-harmful.))  
> ST: ((A bit like looking at how 20th century chemists treated things like radium.))  
> 

Inks carefully, deliberately set the last page of the folder aside and slipped out of her outfit before sliding all the way into the bath proper. She took a deep, steadying breath, then another. All things considered it could have been worse... but not by much. She needed a few moments to center herself. Soaking into the warmer side of the bath, she hummed, breathing in the steam.

When she finally felt calm enough, she opened her eyes and glanced at the Despot. "How do you like the bath?"

He was watching her intently with that narrow gaze; one arm spread out along the bath edge, another holding a glass of wine. The lust was actually absent for once, except around the edges. "Very much," he said. "Does something trouble you? You seem distressed."

"Nothing that you need to worry about- thank you for asking though." She meant it, even if he wasn't asking out of sincere concern, she was glad of the attention. "I have a busy evening planned, so I can't stay much longer. Was there anything you wanted to discuss?"

"Two things, beyond simply enjoying your baths," he answered, letting his eyes roam freely again. "Some time ago you mentioned retaking El-Galabi. Where does that goal stand as of now?"

"I am building up funds to arrange for the endeavor, part of my plans today include securing a raw materials contract with House Iblan- I know how to work gold in magical ways, so I can provide the Rangers with talismans for starters, and then my laborers later." She grinned at the unabashed leer. "I'm not going to rush this- I have to do some research on how to purify the shadowland with Emerald Circle Sorcery- likely some great geomantic working, moving healthier dragon lines into the area."

He frowned, distracted for a moment. "There, you will meet trouble. Iblan Bana does not like you. On the other hand, supporting Gem's ability to support itself... she considers that a worthy goal." He hummed thoughtfully. "Try not to meet with her in person if you can avoid it," he advised. "It will not help your cause."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I can't remember, did Inks ever meet Bana in person before?)  
> ST: ((Nope. Well, if she can remember that far back, she suspects Bana was the old woman who was leaving a meeting the first time Inks and Rankar met face to face, but apart from that she's not aware of ever even being in the same building as the woman.))  
> ST: ((The only notable Iblan she's met is Asenya; the mine-authority DB, and she's mostly divorced from her House proceedings as far as Inks knows.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 

Inks nodded at that. "I appreciate that. Do you by chance know why?"

"She considers you a risk, or a threat, or perhaps both," Rankar said with a shrug. "House Iblan petitioned last year for your hepatizon to be included under their monopoly as a precious metal, in fact, but I dismissed the case - it's created from brass, which doesn't fall under their auspice."

Inks rather suspected it had more to do with keeping the hepatizon flowing straight to his mine-workers, and possibly earning some credit in exactly this kind of conversation, but Rankar seemed to be waiting for some sort of thanks.

Inks nodded, considering the calculation on his part and then her own. "That's very helpful." She moved over, rising out of the water and sitting on the rough stone pavers that formed the edge of the bath. From there, next to Rankar, she could reach down and rub his neck and shoulders.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmm. App+Med for that, see what I get?)  
> ST: ((Sure.))  
> Inks: (22 dice, assuming +2 stunt... wow, 5 successes. )  
> ST: ((lol. Good massage, but nothing exceptional))  
> Inks: (Eh, good enough. Hopefully Rankar is happy. I'm assuming Pipera can handle House Iblan. So let's move on; word back from 'Nanda, then a visit to the Forbidden Chamber casino here in Gem?)  
> 

"Oh, the other matter, Lady Inks," Rankar mentioned casually as one of his guards informed him it was time to leave a half-hour later. "I hear you have made contact with the Coxati mountain-lords?"

"I did, I needed some medicine to help one of my associates." She was letting herself drip dry- an easy thing in Gem. "I hope that's not an issue?"

"No... save for one limit," Rankar said. His expression was the hardset blankness that meant this was an order. "Susilo Moto is not to be dealt with. Under any circumstances. Avoid him."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

It was fortuitous timing, because Inks had barely got started on her architect lesson plans when Maji arrived back, followed minutes later by a snake made out of seafoam. It coiled up on the table she was working on and spoke with the voice of her mentor.

"Inks! Lovely to hear from you. The Kusaboin... it's been a long time since I heard their name. But yes, I know them. They're a western people - nomadic traders who travel from island to island and never set foot on land for more than a few days. Unless you get them good and _distracted_ , of course." Inks couldn't see 'Nanda, but the water dragon's voice alone communicated her meaningful wink.

"Hmm... let's see... I spent a while with them a few decades ago; maybe a century and a half, and they were pretty powerful then. I hear their fortunes have declined since - the Realm's Merchant Navy muscling them out of the markets. Their faith is this _fascinatingly_ warped version of Shogunate Immaculate Orthopraxy - they believe the Immaculate Dragons make up everything; that their bodies are the stuff the world is made of. You know, the sky is the Air Dragon's coils and the sun is the eye of the Fire Dragon looking down through them; that sort of thing."

"And they have some beautiful tattoo artwork, but it's a crying _pain_ getting a look at it. Very private, secret, religious stuff. A waste, really, because they're beautiful patterns with a deep vein of meaning, but they're so cagey about even letting outsiders see them, let alone explaining, that I gave up and moved on after getting nowhere for a few months. Do share your reasons for asking. I'm sure you've gotten yourself in some marvelous trouble as always, nosy girl. Someday I may even have to follow you down there and see what."

Promising to send 'Nanda another message sometime later, Inks filed that information away for the time being. Night was falling and the stars were coming out, shining bright on Gem and its peoples. Vahti had been beside herself all afternoon, bouncing with anticipation for the casino adventure. Visiting during a festival time was bound to be an experience. Now all Inks had to do was wait for Pipera....  
  


>   
> ST: ((Did she send Pipera to negotiate the Iblan deal today?))  
> ST: ((Or is she just waiting for Pipera to decide whether she's coming to the festival or not?))  
> Inks: (I intended for the Iblan negotiation to happen today, but if the timescales don't work out, we can have her do it after the casino)  
> ST: ((Yeah, it's festival day, so better to do it another day.))  
> Inks: (Then to the casino we go, all interested parties!)  
> 

... who appeared in the outfit Inks had made her, smiling ruefully. If she'd indulged her ability to listen in on conversations via the wind at the right moment to catch Inks' information-gathering - Inks still hadn't managed to conclusively determine how often she did that - she gave no sign of it.

Together, Inks, Maji, Pipera and Vahti made an impressive group as they exited the door, trailed by the sounds of an indignant Pesala demanding of her father why she couldn't go with them.  
  


>   
> ST: ((I'm assuming Inks is not going to interject after that sidenote and offer to take a five-year old to a casino, btw.))  
> ST: ((Please do not have Inks interject and offer to take an Int 4 Per 4 five-year old to a casino))  
> Inks: (No, not the place for Pesala, I agree)  
> ST: ((I was legit worried there for a second.))  
> ST: ((THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME. : P ))  
> 

* * *

There were many Trasti gambling-houses and casinos in Gem. Inks bypassed them all. Down, down, deep underground she went; past the Crown and Ring tunnels until she reached Throne. Here; as deeply rooted in the crater as Janissa's establishment, was the most exclusive casino in the city - the Forbidden Chamber. Everyone in this place was as rich as Inks herself - or at least, all the gamblers were. They were served by a veritable army of wait staff, who flitted around the chambers with practiced ease.

Lit with glowstones and decked out in marble, silk and precious metals; it was less like a gambling house and more like a geode-palace of some legendary god of wealth that had been sunken underground. Indeed, Inks had heard that Plentimon of the Dice - the celestial _god_ of gambling - made yearly visits to this very chamber, though the rumours varied wildly as to when that was. Unsurprisingly, there were bets about it.

Pipera was cool and composed, and Maji appeared to consider the lavish surroundings his due, but Vahti was on a constant swivel from the moment they walked through the door; winking jauntily at dealers and drinking in the polished counters, the blurring hands of the dealers and the soft scents of incense winding through the room.

Plucking a wineglass liberally dusted in etched gold leaf from an eager, attentive waiter, Inks led with her legs and hips, eyes bright with interest and eying up opportunities. Truly this was her kind of place. She was self-aware enough to know that she had almost no chance at games of bluff and intrigue, eschewing the card games, but considering the other more mechanically randomized entertainments. Taking a moment to scan the space- the high vaulted ceilings, ornately decorated columns, and handsome, paved tile floors, she panned across the crowd of gilt and glamorous.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Invest/Aware to notice anything cool. I'm doing some cursory research on distant era gambling; Pai Gao is a domino game worth mentioning)  
> ST: ((Okay, 2-die stunt, roll Per+Aware))  
> ST: ((... god, Inks would be such a card-counter if she had a better poker face))  
> Oct 19 13:43:58 Inks: (She could be, 7d +3 autosux)  
> Inks: (8d*, sorry, 5+1 +2; Dang, Rolled 2, +3)  
> 

Alas, Plentimon of the Dice did not seem to be in attendance tonight. Trasti Gion, however, _was_ \- absorbed in a card game that it looked like he was winning. And so, Inks noticed, was a redheaded young man who matched the description of Elemi Sundering Jade; the Fire-Aspected grandson of the famed founder of Gem's Rangers.

Unlike his grandfather, he was known as a reprobate and a womanizer - both traits that were very much on show in how he was making advances on several of the staff serving him drinks. Pipera let out a harsh breath of irritation at the sight, but made no audible comment.

Shaking her head with a bemused look on her face, Inks silently signaled to her entourage that it was time to make some introductions. Heels clicking loud enough to cut through the din, the crowd almost seemed to part before her, giving way until she was able to neatly slide into a recently vacated seat across from handsome Gion. Vahti handed her the tray of casino tokens, before pointedly draping herself across Inks's back and shoulders. 

To that Inks only grinned, winking at the men and women around as she waited for the dealer to pull her in. Win or loose, she was there to meet and greet. "Glad I found the time to come down- this is my kind of place." A handful of cards were dealt her way, unfamiliar suits and so on, but there were so many games across Creation, only a god could track them all. Pipera stood just behind Inks and Vahti, a composed, regal shadow, complimenting Maji's almost disdainful, regal air of jaded indulgence.

The wait staff were at least quick on their feet, a tray of wine glasses being replaced with a tray of succulent cuts of meat, improvised to appeal to the palette of a truly massive tiger.

Trasti Gion was a young man about Inks' age whose blond hair flopped to one side of his face, and who dressed expensively and rakishly. He shot her a challenging grin across the table, fanning out his hand with needless flair.

"Madame Inks," he identified. "I haven't had the pleasure before. Are you sure you can afford this kind of loss, though?" The brash grin undercut the challenge; turning it teasing.

"I'm flush today, thank you for your concern~" She had the dark full lashes to pull off a sooty-eyed stare, matching his grin with a sultry one of her own. "How's business been?"

Something flickers across his face for a second before the grin morphs into a slow smirk. "Exceptional," he drawled. "Why, madame, are you hoping to hop on our caravan? We'd welcome a beauty like you, no doubt."

Inks felt one of Pipera's hands stroke down her upper arm - which normally would have had her turning in her seat to demand the woman sit down for a full medical check-up, except for the quick squeeze followed by a deliberate pattern of finger-pressure. It might have been some sort of code or just a way to call attention - either way, Pipera definitely had thoughts of her own about Gion's offer.

Taking a hand and checking her cards, Inks considered how to answer. She shot Pipera a brief, affectionate grin and the acknowledgment of a point made. "I'm always willing to look at new business ventures. You have a reputation, honored Gion- one that I understand. Entrepreneur." She mulled over Pipera's touch, wondering how to discern meaning from contact...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Invest to discern Pipera's hint?)  
> ST: ((Not really enough to investigate, so it functions more as an "I have something to tell you about him that you might not know/have noticed". But a prompt to perhaps consider setting up some sort of unspoken code like this for future. : P))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, that works too)  
> 

"Anyway- Inks smiled disarmingly. "I mostly just wanted to make your acquaintance. This is such a lovely establishment, after all, and the work you've put into it shows." Her praise was honest- from what she new of Trasti Gion, he was a wild, impetuous sort, but by no means ineffective. His endeavors had been risky, were still at risk, but at the moment, successful. Her praise was honest and heartfelt, and if she were honest with herself, she almost found him something of a kindred spirit.

"There are any number of interesting deals we could discuss in the future- I admit I've always dreamed of running my own bank- I would not think of infringing on your franchise, of course." She turned on the charm, all good cheer and reassurances. "But well, being coy about one's desires means nothing gets said or done."

"I'm sure we find something to discuss on the matter in private," he hinted. "Once the game is over, of course."

Inks grinned. "Perhaps we can~"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Social influence, perhaps, foster a positive intimacy towards Inks?)  
> ST: ((Roll... hmm. Well... let's go with Perception+Socialize for CARD SHARKING, for now, unless you can think of a better pool. Int isn't applicable; it's either Per or Wits.))  
> Inks: (Larceny, naturally, though in this case the pool is the same)  
> ST: ((... oh yeah. Duh. Well, roll whichever.))  
> Inks: (12d, +1 wp autosux. BIIIIG MONEY; rolled 6 +1 auto, 7 total)  
> 

Inks does well in the game, and certainly earns back more than she pays out. She's just barely beaten out for the top spot in winnings by Gion, however, whose reputation for gambling is apparently well-earned. Despite one devastating overbet on a bad hand, he recovers well enough to make back all his losses and then some.

As the disgruntled losers scatter, Gion ushers Inks into a private apartment and tips Vahti a portion of his winnings to 'entertain herself with'. Pipera is not so easily dismissed, indicating she wants to talk to Inks alone with a couple of quiet nods behind his back.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Who does Inks go with?))  
> Inks: (Pipera)  
> ST: ((That may be taken as a snub to Gion.))  
> Inks: (I can handle it)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> ST: ((... wait, shit.))  
> ST: ((I'm being a moron, Pipera has Wind-Carried Words.))  
> Inks: (Heh, good catch)  
> ST: ((Okay, uh))  
> ST: ((Ignore that last bit, I guess))  
> Inks: (it happens, no sweat!)  
> 

Pipera is not so easily dismissed, but accedes to Inks' dismissal with a nod. Her voice winds into Inks' ears as she follows Gion into the apartment, however.

"Business has been anything but exceptional, and he's desperate," Pipera's disembodied whisper says; a faint stirring of air tickling the side of Inks' face. "He wants your help with something more than he should, in some way that goes beyond business. You might think you have the upper hand, but be wary."

There was a rumble from behind her, and as Inks glanced back she saw that Pipera's path had taken her past Maji. Her feline friend was on his feet, and padded over to the door of the apartment as it swung shut. Inks actually saw the door shift slightly as Maji's weight leant against it, and could imagine his massive bulk blocking the entrance.

She had no doubt he could be inside in a heartbeat if she needed him, or screamed.

The apartment was, of course, as lavish as anything else in this throne of parlours; palatial yet surprisingly small for its decadance. Perhaps more interesting were the little signs of habitation here - pictures, trinkets, clothes - that all pointed to it being Gion's _personal_ apartment he'd brought her to.

It was a sudden and intimate look into the mind of the man she was now sitting with. The chairs were decadent and comfortable, almost like sitting on clouds. She smiled, open and friendly. "You have a fine sense of taste, Gion."

"I'm glad you think so," he said with brash cheer. "Because I brought you here to ask you to marry me."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Aaaaand end session on that note, I think. : 3))  
> ST: ((tee hee hee))  
> ST: Thoughts on the session?  
> Inks: ...Dang  
> Inks: well I really enjoyed it. A lot got done and there wasn't a lot of faffing about. We were both on our games, so to speak  
> Inks: I admit I was hoping to tie up the end of the session with some project actions and earn some sorcerous XP, but next week I guess  
> ST: I did say he's brash and a risk-taker - and more than a little rakish. : P  
> Inks: I expected Vahti to be- well, I expected what I got, but not quite to the extent and I am quite entertained.   
> ST: I'm not saying I modeled her off "what would early-game Inks have surprised me by doing?"  
> ST: but I kind of did  
> Inks: aye, and it was fun- because bluntly, light-hearted lesbian fanservice is my speed  
> ST: cool  
> ST: heh  
> ST: and Hinna?  
> Inks: I'm definitely looking forward to chatting with her more in depth- I think we both handed the exposition of her plothook rather well; just in general we were able to write a lot and _convey_ a lot instead of getting lost in being too clever for each other?  
> Inks: I was rather impressed with the comparison to 'early 20th century medicine' and so on, with how Hinna acts. Depending on her scruples, Inks may or may not find her a welcome research partner.  
> ST: Hee  
> Inks: Pipera's shaping up nicely, and I'm glad that she's thawing at a reasonable pace. Her reaction to the glam power suit was nice.   
> ST: heh  
> ST: The Pepper-Like  
> Inks: yeah  
> Inks: Before I forget, XP?  
> ST: yup, 4xp+1mxp  
> Inks: I would like at some point a description of Vahti, beyond the general 'She's a Flame Duck' template  
> ST: kk  
> Inks: I can say that it is somewhat strange to get 5xp a session  
> ST: ?  
> Inks: Most of my gaming career is 8xp a session. It's not bad, the slower pace is working well for us, but generally speaking most STs I started the hobby with all agreed that 'Charm a Session' was a fair progression- especially considering most of the other purchases you could get fit into multiples of 4 or 8.  
> Inks: it's just an observation.  
> ST: Mmm. I feel like a new charm every session is a bit much. A charm every couple seems better-fitting, to my mind.  
> Inks: aye- this is mostly just a discussion of play environments/experiences mind, inksgame trait costs are houseruled like crazy anyway  
> ST: true  
> Inks: I'm going to likely include in the summary thread 'Hark, a Running Gag!'  
> ST: look  
> ST: you were the one who chose to play an Appearance 5, Resources 5 brazen bombshell  
> ST: :P  
> Inks: yes but most of my STs either refused to care about how pretty _any_ character was  
> Inks: or spent time making... Not-classy jokes about sex?  
> Inks: Pretty characters have a stigma, after all  
> ST: fair enough, hopefully I've hit a happy medium, then  
> Inks: oh no you've been fine  
> Inks: like, to give you an idea- in one of my first games, I played a busty ninja night caste  
> Inks: a lot of the players and storytellers spent more time harping on her being busty- to the point that an NPC motorboated her chest  
> ST: ...  
> ST: ... I see,  
> Inks: it was funny at the time, but it's a question of Tone?  
> Inks: with Inksgame, I have the opportunity to attempt more artful or classy depictions of well, Exalted Sexiness?   
> ST: Yeah  
> ST: good, then!  
> Inks: It's not like we're sitting here describing every detail of Rankar's manhood when he showed up. Or how Inks is _really_ gorgeous, clothed or not, we're just... letting it stand on its own.  
> Inks: I may have toyed with the line during Vahti's massage, but it was all in good fun- and I was writing that bit assuming Inks sleeps in the nude, but I didn't have the chance to write that out or felt the need to after the fact.  
> 


	22. Sesssion 22: Visions of Trasti Gion and the Mysteries of Tatters

"I'm glad you think so," Gion said with brash cheer. "Because I brought you here to ask you to marry me."

He grinned at her confidently, leaning back in his chair in a way that emphasised his chest and shoulders and casually flicking his hair out of his eyes.

For a long moment, Inks was silent, and then she slumped in her chair, strings cut. "Of course you did." She looked up at him with a wry grin. "I'm flattered, but humor me when I ask why."

He chuckled, gesturing to her. "I think your beauty would be enough of a reason on its own. But..."

The speed at which he sobered took Inks a little by surprise, as the brash, cocky young man became deadly serious. "There is actually a better reason; you're right. I believe that if we are united; you can help me save Gem, the Firepeaks and every city along them as far as the Lap."

"...Consider myself intrigued- though I'm going to be clear, I'm just not interested in getting married. I like the rest of what you're saying though." She cocked her head to one side, carefully considering the weight of his words.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's Ear, 4m instant, on 'united/save the South)  
> ST: (Not a deliberate falsehood or half-truth.))  
> 

Gion leaned forwards; encouraged by her acceptance of his claim. The light of fervour burned in his eyes. "I'm young for the head of Great House. The reason I hold the position is because my father died a few years ago. Strangely. Horribly. Ever since I took the headship, I've had dreams - dreams of what will come to be. Dreams of Gem, Antifar, Ramabar Minah... every city south of the Lap destroyed in a single night by fire and smoke and darkness."

"They don't come every night, but they do come often - at least twice a week, sometimes more. They are _visions_ \- visions that I hope can be averted. Visions that, with you, I might be able to prevent."

Inks nodded, slowly. "Well, I'd be more than happy to help. Have you taken any steps to verify the visions?"

Gion blinked; apparently both startled at her taking him seriously and taken aback at her question. "I... I don't take your meaning. Verify them _how?_ They are _prophecy_."

"Well, anything really." Inks shrugged. "Prophecy comes from _somewhere_ , and figuring out how to confirm they're real or from an external source means you aren't well, delusional." She paused for a moment, humming. "It would be a challenge though... I can ask 'Nanda, she might have an idea of how to verify a prophecy. In the meantime, can you explain how marriage would avert this whole thing?"

This seemed to be safer turf for him, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. "Yes, right. Well, you're a child of the Sun, and a sorceress. As my wife, you would have access to the wealth and resources of Trasti House - which are rivaled only by House Iblan and the Despot himself. I've been working to expand the Trasti name out across eastwards across the South so it would survive if..."

his eyes went a little haunted, "... the worst happened. But before then, you'd have the full force of the backing you'd need - _we'd_ need - to find whatever threatens us and put a stop to it."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception+Socialise to read him. Diff 3.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3 Inks: [3, 7, 6, 5, 3, 5] was rolled for 4 success after all modifiers.  
> 

Looking him up and down, Inks thought... well, if she was going to be brutally honest; Inks' main thought was ' _young_ '. Was this how 'Nanda had sometimes seen her during her tutelage; skilled to be sure but with far more confidence than she merited and no real idea what she was doing? Perhaps not. But Gion was out of his depth, she could tell.

He was definitely certain that his dreams were prophetic and the Firepeaks were in grave danger - which actually explained quite a lot about some of his riskier ventures - but he had no real idea what to do about it, and was hoping that a Sun-chosen like her would be able to somehow magically solve the problem if he threw enough resources behind her.

And she was pretty sure he could have thought up a way to justify giving her Trasti resources without marrying her, even if that was the easiest one - it just happened to be by far the most attractive, too. Though she couldn't really blame him for _that_ viewpoint, she supposed.

Inks hummed thoughtfully, and rose from her seat with no small amount of slinky grace, leading with hips and legs without really thinking about. Her smile was open and warm, not so much inviting as endearing and full of assurances. As she moved closer, rounding his chair, Inks spoke. "I'd be more than happy to create an alliance- maybe not a marriage, but definitely an alliance." She set her hands on his neck and shoulders and Inks started to rub. 

Truly this man needed a reduction in stress in his life. "I think for starters... you should write down everything in your visions. What you see, feel. Anything you can think of. Send that to me and I'll investigate."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, roll against, um... huh. lol))  
> Inks: (I was thinking something medicine, as this was meant to be therapeutic?)  
> ST: ((okay nvm, you literally don't need to roll there because the combination of his intimacies and your looks actually reduce him to 0 MDV against this suggestion before you even pick the dice up))  
> Inks: (hahaha, wow)  
> 

He was like clay in her hands; too malleable even to show any disappointment at her rejection of his proposal. A shaky sigh escaped him, and he nodded. "I... I can do better than that. I've caught one or two of them in dreamstones. I'll... I'll deliver them to your manor in person. We can't trust a matter like this to messengers. I tried to tell one or two people before, but..." He broke off with a bitter shake of his head.

"Clever." Inks grinned, not that he could see her. "We'll get to the bottom of this."  
  


>   
> Inks: ((I think we can scenebreak on that? Gion-Quest begins?))  
> ST: ((Indeed we can.))  
> ST: ((Okay, so you've got a few other things you want to do, among them I believe your tutelage. Feel free to lead off the next scene.))  
> Inks: (Alright, lessee... I wanted to get on the training of architects and doctors, which can be abstracted out over downtime with [yet to be rewritten HAM]. Alongside that, I wanted to start tooling up more sorcerous workings/demon industries.)  
> Inks: (On the note of Gion, is he going to become a Backing rating or similar?)  
> 

* * *

With Gion's visions of ill omen lingering in her mind, Inks turned to more of her personal projects with an eye towards shoring Gem up against what could be a potential cataclysmic threat. There wasn't a lot she could do about say, a volcano, but war and famine were things more in line with her skillset. Before she forgot, she sent Maji off with a quick question to 'Nanda about the nature of prophetic visions and how to verify them.

Everyone needed good healthcare, and with that in mind, Inks secured Telasi and convinced her to be class leader in her initial efforts to create a corps of doctors and surgeons. She started small with just a handful of people, but all perfectly capable of taking over for her as the 'commitment' to House Sahlak. She assured everyone that the truly mystifying cases she would still take on. In the same vein, she selected the top architects and foremen from House Bhalasus and instructed them in both advanced design techniques, and arranged for a master-apprentice system of her cooling architecture procedure. She was eventually going to allow it to run free- no real way to keep it hidden, but for now it was lucrative to maintain control over it.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so I'm thinking about a vitriol facility, because I can summon metody and such, but Vitriol requires a lot of support like super-strong cauldrons and such; can I get tumbaga or orichalcum from House Iblan, and would either of those work? Or is there another option?)  
> ST: ((Hang on a mo while I answer one of those things.))  
> 

The answer that came back from her Mentor was uncertain. Sometimes untrained visions like this were destined truth, 'Nanda explained through the mouth of another riverfoam-serpent; brief glimpses at the tapestry Fate that rare and exceptional mortals might touch during deepest slumber. But more often, they were _sent_ by something - a god, a ghost or even an elemental like 'Nanda herself.

And that meant that they weren't, necessarily, _sure things_. They weren't messages of what _would_ happen; they were visions of what whoever sent them wanted the dreamer to _think_ would happen. Sometimes they were honest warnings sent because a god knew something was coming, but they might just as easily be a ghost trying to terrify a disobedient descendant back into the family line.

'Nanda ended the message by advising her 'girl who would know the future' to determine the type of vision and its source; either by having the dreamer sleep in an area warded against dreams sent from without, or by learning to see the wisps of essence that carried them.

Inks vowed to do something _Very_ nice for her mentor when she saw her next- so much useful advice!  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can certainly _ask_ if House Iblan is willing to lend or sell her their extremely valuable thaum or magical materials for her to make vitriol, but she's not sure how successful such a request would be, and suspects the answer would be "no".))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. I've already got Pipera securing a supply of gold for warding talismans,did that last session)  
> Inks: (not sure if it'll WORK, but she's trying)  
> Inks: (Alright, so I don't think I can do vitriol production now. I can still summon anhules, so how about demon silk production?)  
> ST: remind me which demons she can summon, in total?  
> Inks: (Okidaci, Anhule, Blood Ape, Stomach Bottle Bug, Basilik dog, Heranhals, ANglakaye, Neomah and Metody)  
> Inks: (It occurs to me that the basilisk dogs are also great miners, so I can hire them out for digging if necessary)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Okay. So. Where are you going to set your anhule up for their silk-production? You have various options.))  
> Inks: (Probably a new annex from the hepatizon complex, as Rankar would probably want me to keep demon industries out of Gem itself.)  
> Inks: (So I need to know what I'm rolling to get this whole thing set up. Last time I tried doing a demon industry, I could not exceed Magnitude 3 for reasons I can't remember)  
> ST: ((Well, hang. First of all, you're doing that tutelage.))  
> ST: ((For the tutelage, I'm pretty sure training two mediumish groups to cover for you at a decent level means it's going to be a Minor Project. What are you training them up to?))  
> Inks: (Preferably Med 4 and Craft 4 , respectively)  
> Inks: (I can also as per houserule, teach styles...)  
> ST: (You actually need to, in order to go that high. Unenlightened mortals can't exceed Ability 3.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, then Med 3 + 2 style for the doctors (Inks is only Style 2 herself), and Craft 3 for the architects  
> Inks: (I don't have an 'architecture' style)  
> ST: ((Not training Int?))  
> Inks: (Oh, good suggestion, Per and int are good for their jobs too)  
> ST: ((Likely to make more of a difference, too, since the architects are likely to already be Craft 2ish.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. So assuming they're attr 2 average, that's 4 intervals raising per/int, and then 2-3 intervals raising medicine to 3, and lastly 2 intervals teaching the med style)  
> ST: ((Hmm. So I'll basically treat this as a Minor Project for this season.))  
> Inks: (Alright- I'm working under the assumption that Inks has 2 free minor actions, so that's 2 dots per season; is that accurate to your intent?)  
> ST: ((I'm basically going to have to rework the HAM rules, sigh, again. So for now this is your Minor action for this season, and then you've got either a Major action or two more Minor actions.))  
> Inks: (Oh okay. Well, remember that I already had one minor action spent up by BEING the on-call doctor for Sahlak and architectural consulting)  
> Inks: (So this is all intended to free that third minor action up)  
> ST: ((Ah yes.))  
> Inks: (Anyway, so I Have 1 minor action left over for the current season.... you know what we should do? We should number the seasons so we know which one we're on, like a tick count)  
> Inks: (But we can do that over the week  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (Alright, then with my last minor action... I'll spend the time negotiation the demon facility expansion with Rankar, so when next season starts, I can just get started.)  
> ST: ((However, setting up a whole new wing of your factory-complex and filling it with anuhle silk-production and getting that flowing into Gem and so on is going to be a Major project, so you-))  
> ST: ((... ninja'd me.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so current season is set up. Ready for rolls? No roll for training, roll to convince Rankar/his court?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Hmm. You're not hitting any monopolies because it's silk, it _will_ cause another spike in people getting scared of demon-tainted goods (so you're rolling to soothe that as well), and, uh... Rankar is going to be considerably less happy about having a bunch of murderous hunter-killer demon spiders near his city. Heranhal and neomah are at least _not predators_. Anuhles are driven to hunt and feed as their Motivation, and can be horribly venomous and as large as a horse.))  
> Inks: (Right- though we've agreed that they're not super-grimderp either, because blah 2e anhules)  
> ST: ((Actually, I'm going from 2e in Books of Sorcery V, where there's nothing about baby skulls or murdering parents, and they're 'merely' predatory demon-spiders who are born hunters and killers, are largely summoned for that reason, and can as an incidental thing also spin silk as strong as steel.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> Inks: (So what that suggests to me is that the anhule facility should be part nature preserve so the spiders can hunt when not making silk. Unless there's a better idea? I mean, they're demons. I can bind them to not leave their designated zone or to just spin silk ala robot production orders?)  
> ST: ((Their Limit condition is likely to be to do with not catching food, yes. So, give me a really good stunt justifying to Rankar why the factory-wing full of giant, carnivorous, venomous, demonic predatory spiders just outside the city walls is definitely not going to be a problem no sirree honest m8, and then consider your strategy for rolling against MDV 10.))  
> Inks: (Oh boy, *cracks knuckles*)  
> 

* * *

Inks was a firm believer in the power of an informed decision. She presented a single summoned anhule to Rankar, bound to Inks and kept in a strong cage. She explained the particulars of their nature to Celi, so that she would in turn understand the particulars of this demon breed.

She explained in turn their utility, their nature. When that was all said and done, she laid out the plan for her silk manufacturing facility-

"A carefully constructed factory wing, with hepatizon bars over all vents and what few windows." She had built a model that could be opened up. "An inner wall and outer wall, with the doors designed in such a way that one portal cannot open when the other is. Heranhal laborers will harvest the silk and supply the interior with prey animals... "

"Outside, Okidaci would be stationed as sentries, as their fiery nature would prevent any Anhules from escaping." Lastly, she reminded Rankar that she could cast Banishment, and offered to teach it to his other court sorcerers if they did not know how.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, are you having Inks roll this? It's probably a Cha+Pres roll.))  
> OInks: (Yes, that'd be cha+pres; stunt value?)  
> OcST: ((2 dice, and it's enough to make the roll applicable.))  
> Inks: (Okay, cha 2 pres 4 +3 style, +5 conviction dice, +4 autosux from excellency and style)  
> Inks: (Oh, +2d from stunt, and +1d from 'mercantile empire)  
> Inks: (4 autosux, cha 2, pres 4, = 3 sux, +1 from style)  
> ST: ((Go for it.))  
> Inks: !ex 17 +4; Inks: [6, 4, 1, 7, 9, 2, 10, 7, 6, 9, 10, 5, 6, 1, 9, 3, 6] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Niiiiiice.))  
> 

Rankar wasn't... _terribly_ happy about Inks' planned extension to her factory-complex - and indeed she caught Pipera eying her with a bit less exasperated warmth than she'd come to expect - but her reasoning was sound and the rewards were huge. Steelsilk was rare and expensive down in Gem, and a large source promised a lot of venue and interest.

There would undoubtedly be more teething troubles when she rolled it out - at the moment, her hepatizon was still largely outfitting very select groups that worked for Rankar, but the general public of Gem, if she chose to sell to them, would be a great deal more superstitious and frightened of goods that might be 'demon-tainted' or 'cursed'.

Still, she'd made a pretty damn good start on winning them over with a preliminary campaign explaining the measures she was taking for their safety around her factory complex, so she'd probably be able to handle anything that came up.

* * *

She had a pleasant surprise partway through the season, as well. Another visit from Tatters - and this one entirely voluntary on the exorcist's part! Inks hadn't even had to walk through any of the seedier tunnels making pointed comments about how lovely and refreshing her baths were!

"Glad to see you!" Inks spread her arms grandly, mindful of the exorcist's personal space. "How've you been?"

Tatters quietly seated herself near the edge of the courtyard in a patch of deep shade without answering, and then - tentatively, as if expecting a blow in retaliation - removed her veil. The face behind it was dark - not brown or black, but rather a golden hue deep enough that it could pass for them at a glance. Her black hair was limp across one grey eye, but there was no sign of scarring from the blow Maji had dealt her last year. She was biting her lip; worried.

"I went back to El Galabi," she said quietly. "A-are you still sure you want to reclaim it?"

Inks blinked. "I would like to yes, I've been steadily building up connections and assets with the intention of doing so. Did you find something there?"

Tatters folded her hands on her lap, stared at them for a moment, and nodded. "It's, um... the thing in the middle; I wanted a better look at it. And also the shadowland, and the ghosts there. The thing in the t-temple..."

Her voice cracked, and she took a couple of horrible, rattling breaths before continuing. "I'm more or less certain it's a yidak lord. A weak one by the standards of lords, though. I think maybe because it's... either trapped up here or choosing to stay up here. Probably the second one, because the shadowland feels..." She frowned, waving a hand vaguely. "Um, narrow, but deep. Very sheer. It could get down quite far into the Underworld if it wanted to, but it hasn't. I'm not sure why."  
  


>   
> ST: ((To recap the types of undead monster and compare them to the demons Inks is a bit more familiar with; Lesser Dead are the equivalent of 1CDs in power, Greater Dead are things that have drifted away from humanity enough to be in the 2CD ballpark, and Lords of Death is a general catchall term for anything in the 3CD ballpark - this includes Deathlords like the Mask of Winters but also hekatonkhires, Labyrinth-nightmare things and, yes, sometimes the hungry ghosts of old and powerful Celestial Exalts.))  
> Inks: (So this Yidak is equiv to a 3cd, or a high level 2cd?)  
> ST: ((A weak 3CD, yes. Of course, yidaks are always a bit of a toss-up, because there's as much chance they'll be furious raging monsters as overindulgent glutton-things. Depends how the Exalt was focused and how they died. But yeah, this is why Solar Tombs exist.))  
> 

Inks paused, mulling and quite honestly touched. "You... " She could flirt and charm, but articulating something with more depth was still a challenge. "You're saving lives. Money and time too, but most importantly- _lives_. I'm not going to go into El-Galabi until I feel good and ready- until I have the right knowledge and equipment...." She trailed off with a bemused huff of frustration. "I want to pay you- reward you. I mean. _Damn_." She looked up at Tatters, openly appreciative.

Tatters flushed - or Inks thought she did; her skin tone made it hard to tell - and looked down, flustered. After a moment, she looked back up. "You could... you're a healer," she said slowly, as if testing the idea out. "A doctor. Surgeon."

"Among other things, yes." Inks nodded.

Tatters went quiet and contemplative for another long moment. "There is something you could do to help me, then," she said. "Uh, maybe. I haven't... I can't do anything about it. Can we go somewhere dark?" She added this last in a hopeful tone, with a wary glance up at the bright overhangings that were all that blocked the sun's rays from blistering the courtyard's contents.

* * *

Inks nodded, pointing her to one of the ground floor guest rooms. Once inside, she closed the shutters and drew the curtains, before lighting a small lantern. "Whenever you're ready."

There were quite a lot of robes. In fact, Inks realised, she'd been underestimating how thin Tatters was, under them - she looked unhealthy, like someone just on the edge of malnourishment. A little mewl announced itself from the room's corner as her outer robe hit the floor, and it began to become apparent that the robes were for more than just bulk - they were concealing something.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... heh. Actually, does Inks look for the source of the little mewling noise?))  
> Inks: (Sure, per+aware, cat style)  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [2, 1, 7, 9, 1, 7, 7, 9, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

Glancing down at the floor, Inks initially saw nothing. Then _something_ rubbed across the back of her ankles - it felt a little like Maji's fur just after he'd come out of a dip in the cold end of the baths, but completely dry. A mental twist of the sort that let her see spirits, and she had it. A little ghostly kitten padded silently across the room to its mistress - an unplaceable mongrel that had probably died from being stamped on, if the broken state of its ribs was anything to go by.

Its path drew Inks' eyes back to Tatters. Whose own ribcage had an arrow through it.

... well, part of one. It must have been an enormous shaft; closer to a javelin than an arrow. What was left was only a little longer than Tatters was thick; a few inches of fletching protruding from her back and a jagged, broken-off shaft in front. It had very nearly gone clean through her. It wasn't wood or any material she recognized - it was some sort of black metal that seemed to suck in the light - and the whole area round it had been neatly bandaged. If Inks judged the path through her chest right, it had gone clean through Tatters' right lung. No wonder her breath rattled.

Inks winced. "Well... okay then." Inks approached with all due serenity and grace, efficiently taking the injury in and asking a few questions. How long ago, what treatment has already been done, any other symptoms, and so on. At the end, she considered the next step.

Tatters was... cagey about how exactly she'd got the injury. But the results of Inks' examination made no _sense_. Every _other_ test she could think of to perform told her that Tatters was healthy. Undernourished, in need of more sleep and risking heatstroke from how much time she spent in those heavy robes, but no worse off than might be expected for a woman in her condition who _didn't have an arrow through the lung_.

And yet, when she peeled back the bandages to look, there were four bloody arrow holes in her chest, front and back; one of them still occupied by an arrow that didn't shift an millimetre to Inks' tentative touches. It was almost like... like the injuries were superficial. Or, no, not even that. More like the extra joint of a brekwyn plover, that it could use to fake a broken wing - something that looked like an injury, but wasn't.

Or, the thought occurred to her; the marks on a ghost's corpus of what killed them. Tatters' ghostly kitten had a crushed ribcage, after all. But the woman had a heartbeat! And body heat, even if it was lower than it should be!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. So relevant question-does inks have enough information to perform surgery?)  
> ST: ((She doesn't - she's not even fully sure what the arrow-thing _is_ , because if there's one thing she does know it's that it's not an actual arrow. It doesn't shift in place like a foreign object lodged in someone's body would. And also it's cold to the touch and made of creepy black metal that makes her skin crawl when she touches it, but that could just be a really weird type of arrow. The corpus-echo _of_ the actual arrow, maybe, but not the one that caused the wound.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so this clearly falls into the 'FDT tells Inks that there's a missing clue')  
> ST: ((Yup. Oh, and it also tells her that at some point Tatters got shot in the back four times by a bow firing something closer to small spears than arrows. Obviously. : P))  
> 

To Tatters, Inks offered an apologetic smile. "It's beyond my current understanding, but I believe that it's treatable. I just don't know where to start exactly."

She looked disappointed, but accepting, and wrapped herself back up as her ghostly kitten twined around her ankles and purred reassuringly. That actually brought a smile to her face, and she leaned down to pet it before fastening her veil again.

Pausing at the front door to the manor, she seemed to struggle with what to say for a moment.

"... I'm still coming to El-Galabi with you, if you're set on reclaiming it," she eventually settled on. The tremor of fear in her voice that Inks had heard when she spoke of the yidak lord was tucked away somewhere beneath the veil. "Don't... don't try taking it without me."

"Of course not." Inks agreed with a grin.  
  


>   
> ST: ((And I think we can end the session there, if you're amenable.))  
> Inks: ( I think that works. I had fun!)  
> Inks: I admit though that we weren't quite as on our game as we were last session  
> Inks: just felt 'off' today, not sure why.  
> ST: yeah, same  
> ST: well, I look forward to your postmortem nonetheless  
> Inks: agreed.  
> Inks: also, xp?  
> ST: Yup; 4xp+1mxp+1Sxp  
> Inks: yay!  
> ST: Actually, heh, I'm surprised Inks didn't chase the hints that Tatters had already been to El Galabi once.  
> ST: Or did you work out when it must have been and why? : P  
> Inks: I did not notice them  
> ST: Huh. Drat. I thought I'd dropped those pretty clearly.  
> Inks: Well, she said she'd 'gone back to El-Galabi'  
> ST: Yeah, she spoke of the ghosts there with a bit too much certainty last time, and... yes, "back to".  
> Inks: but she's an exorcist (among other things)  
> Inks: but it just seemed sort of like a professional + waifu interest  
> Inks: "Oh god my crush is planning on courting certain death must halp."  
> ST: Heh. It's a fair way out of the way and all the ghosts there are- heh, yes.  
> Inks: so sure, she might be FROM El-Galabi or something, or have investigated it before, but it's... how to explain this  
> ST: If Inks has thought about the implications she's gone before, she's probably deduced it was just after _Inks_ went, to see what she'd gone off for a couple of weeks to look at.  
> Inks: I don't like rushing after NPC backstories or picking apart everything everyone says.  
> ST: Yup, fair policy.  
> Inks: I mean, I like it when I GET inferences or implications  
> Inks: I think part of the problem today was that I was not in a proper mood to really RP Inks- not thinking flirty-awesome enough. Vahti's opening last week really got me in the right headspace  
> ST: Heh. I will remember this in future. : P  
> Inks: so bluntly, what I think I should have done was spent the night with Gion as part of the whole discussion of his visions  
> ST: hee  
> Inks: because relaxing, confidence-affirming sex is something is Inks-OK  
> Inks: I think part of what threw me is that I as a roleplayer am very 'defensive' when marriage comes up  
> Inks: it's an easy lever for you to pull that immediately puts Inks on the back foot of 'No no no not getting married'  
> Inks: Contracts, alliances, etc are fine  
> Inks: mmm. I'm also currently dissatisfied with the project rules right now. I can't self-define very much and I have to do a lot of waiting for arbitration.  
> Inks: they _work_ , but they're not really working well. I'm digging the timescale stuff, just not the actual 'actions' that fit into trivial/major/minor  
> Inks: I do like the Gion-plot  
> ST: Hmm. You want me to stop using marriage? I did in Gion's case because... bluntly, he's overconfident, and a young man in his late twenties, and desperate for aid. And didn't do the research. And marriage means a measure of exclusivity, and... well, Inks is _knockout gorgeous_.  
> Inks: Oh no no it's fine, I'm just picking apart what I'm feeling  
> ST: kk  
> Inks: yeah, it's too accurate to the setting to cut out completely, but so far Inks has had two major formative experiences with marrage  
> Inks: both of them not super-positive  
> Inks: Gion's proposal is so innocuous as to not even register beyond the polite 'no thank you'  
> Inks: so what I'm saying is that when you invoke 'Marriage' again, feel free to remind me as a player to take stock- a well thought out 'no' is better than a reflexive, habitiual one.  
> Inks: I do have to ask actually  
> Inks: how many App 5 gals are in Gem right now anyway?  
> ST: noooooot many  
> ST: we are talking single digit numbers  
> ST: in a city of about a million people  
> Inks: are we running under the notion that people can raise app with makeup or whatnot?  
> ST: Appearance styles can boost, and yes, tools can add an effective temp dot  
> Inks: Gotcha, so in practice some of the app 3 and a lot of the app 4 folks can gussy themselves up  
> ST: but if we're talking baseline App 5... yeah  
> Inks: but the *natural* app 5s, small crowd.  
> ST: yeah, but the App 5 knockouts can *also* use tools and styles  
> Inks: Yeah, which I haven't yet- per se. iirc the Exotic Beauty style has an app booster?  
> ST: well, you can view that as increasing your Appearance+Presence dicepool  
> Inks: oh right, you err in favor of pools  
> Inks: Nevermind then- Anyway.... I think I'm going to spend 1exp and 7sxp to learn Private Plaza of Downcast Eyes, as per 'Nanda's advice, and then help Gion confirm his visions.   
> ST: kk  
> Inks: I guess one last thing for you to be aware of- I'm focusing on building a mercantile empire, because I want to use the 'complete motivation' goal to raise my Essence to 4 instantly  
> ST: right  
> 


	23. Session 23: Hostess Hinna and the Benefits of Collaberation

There were disadvantages to having a diverse and free-spirited entourage inhabiting one's manor house. One of them, alas, was occasionally coming downstairs in the morning to find one's kitchen covered in raw ingredients and slightly on fire.

Inks took in the spectacle of her courtyard, which included a Pipera with gritted teeth, a Maji with egg in his fur, a slightly scorched and delighted-looking Pesala and an only-faintly-embarrassed-looking Vahti.

"Sorry boss," the flame duck said. "It was meant to be breakfast in bed for you."

Inks laughed, full and rich. "Clearly this is a desperate cry for help, and hands-on-instruction." The taller woman smiled, before both calling some of her house staff for assistance and grabbing a rag herself. She attended to Maji first, before nudging him toward the Bath for a relaxing soak. "So Vahti-" Inks grinned wider, scrubbing one of the hand-polished stone counters.

"Is there anything else you'd like to do, besides me?"

Vahti eyed Pipera speculatively, and got a scathing glare for her trouble. Shrugging it off, she lit up with an idea.

"That sunlight-catching stuff you were talking about sounded interesting," she said. "I could tag along for that. Or," she winked, "How about Trasti Gion? He was cute, right? I wouldn't mind doing him."

"You might get an opportunity, I was hoping to invite him over for a dream study soon." She winced. "I completely forgot about Hinna too." Inks looked at Pipera. "Do I have anything else pressing or lingering that I should take care of?"

Pipera closed her eyes for a moment. "Besides your continuing efforts with the exorcist, you offered to help the Ragged figure out what happened to their dead goddess. You might also want to check up on your demon-children in the orphanage; they'll be reaching their first year soon."

"That toxic green flame is still in a lead box in your workshop, too," she adds.

"Thank you." Inks tossed the rag into a waiting basket and eyed the mostly-clean kitchen. The scorch marks added character, really- made it looked 'lived in'. "Extend an invitation to Gion for a few nights stay, not in a huge rush. I'd need to ward one of the guest rooms against scrying first. I'll visit Soft Ash today- and could you ask Hinna when she's next free for a consultation? Probaly under some pretense of assaying and making sure my dues are paid up." She smiled at Pipera's officious nod, trusting her agent to execute her will. She turned to Vahti. "Get cleaned up and dressed, if you want to join me with Hinna. I'll pick you up after checking the orphanage."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So we can check out the orphanage next, and yeah, the green flame. Best talk to Ajjim about that, but after Hinna.)  
> ST: ((Cool. You did buy it from him, as I recall. Also, I'm assuming that Ajjim and Pesala are basically by-default inhabiting the manor; or at least Pesala is whenever Ajjim goes out on a desert-trip?))  
> Inks: (I had not officially extended that invitation, but honestly i don't see why not. There's enough room and... I think at Res 5, I can more casually buy out neighboring properties for expansion?  
> Inks: (But yes, tigerdad and daughter are welcome to live at the townhouse)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Though yes, you have plenty of room at present.))  
> Inks: ((it occurs that honestly Inks is probably already employing Ajjim as a cartographer or desert guide, she just hasn't had a chance to really activelyuse his expertise, but he's drawing a salary and getting room/board. I imagine he's even able to rent an office now if he likes.)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

The orphanage Inks had set up... gods, yes, almost a year ago now - was much as it had been the first time she'd visited. Soft Ash looked slightly less tired than Inks remembered her being when she'd had a hundred and fifty newborns to deal with, but... well, running an orphanage was never exactly a relaxing task.

Still, she welcomed Inks into her cluttered office and brusquely asked if something was wrong, to earn a visit from the institution's founder.

"Just a reminder that I am responsible for all of this." She explained without taking a seat, and not wanting to waste Soft Ash's time. "Is there anything I can do on my end? More labor, better training?"

The portly older woman huffed thoughtfully, tapping the desk. "Some of them are little brutes - some children always are, in any group - but these ones can tug on fires and have strength beyond what's natural for babes," she said. "If you can figure out a way to stop 'em hurting my staff, that'd help. They're still to young to understand punishments. And when they get older I dare say they'll need schooling; so I'll ask that you have some way to take them off my hands once they're grown."

"Hmm..." She considered a few approaches- tinctures to temporarily suppress their strength, or ones to improve the resilience of their minders. She discarded most of them as hardly ethical, but her mind provided them nonetheless. Schooling was something she understood and could more resolutely guarantee. "I'll figure that out for you. Though- any of those you see tug on fires, the wild talents and such? Keep me appraised. I'm not going to choose their life for them, but if they've got a unique skill..." She trailed off, humming thoughtfully.

"I'll be sure to," Soft Ash promised.  
  


>   
> Inks: (My initial thought to solve this problem is developing or securing an alchemy solution that grants higher lethal/bashing soak. Would that pass the int5 check or no?)  
> ST: ((Such solutions are possible, but making enough for a Mag 3 staff to take every day would be pretty expensive.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, i'm not having much luck thinking of something else, so let's do a roll. Int+Occult; Difficulty?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. The problem here is "what can be done to stop ~1demonblooded babies from being dangerous to their caregivers". That's... a pretty tall order. Let's say Diff 5 for a few options that might work.))  
> Inks: (Rolling 8d +4 sux)  
> Inks: (got 7 sux, threshold of 2)  
> 

The issue was, as Inks saw it, that the babies were... well, babies. They were only just becoming confident in walking, most still hadn't said their first word, and they had the typical emotional control and maturity of fourteen-month-olds; which was to say: none. They understood what "no" or "stop!" _meant_ , but that didn't mean they _listened_. When they got angry they lashed out, when they were upset they screamed and threw tantrums. It was what babies _did_.

Unfortunately, these babies were strong enough, and had demonic innate powers enough, to hurt people in their flailing. On top of their ugliness, it meant that they weren't very well liked by the staff - and that was probably making the issue worse.

As Inks saw it, temporary fixes weren't enough. If she didn't stop the problem at the source, it would keep cropping up. That meant either teaching the babies to be more mature - which she'd have to do herself and would be no small undertaking - or providing their caretakers with equipment and training to handle them. The steelsilk she was thinking of producing might help there.

Or, of course, she could just get new, more effective caretakers who couldn't be hurt as easily. The only issue with that was that summoning demons to raise demonblooded babies would... probably not result in model members of society.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so Inks can teach the children despite being 14 months old? I hadn't considered that a possibility)  
> ST: ((So, basically, one option to to train up their Temperance. Since they're a Mag 4 group, this would be a season-long Major project. Alternatively, she could supply equipment like steelsilk armour and possibly some training in persuasion stuff or Compassion or both to the staff in the hopes that it would make them more effective in onto demon caretakers.))  
> ST: ((Note that babies do not as a rule have high Temperance, and you would want it to be pretty high to compensate for the watered-down drives of their heranhal sides.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, I was thinking also of Elemental caretakers, as their psychology might be more preferable.)  
> ST: ((Also an option, but Inks can't summon and bind them.))  
> Inks: (Not yet, no)  
> ST: ((... also, still probably wouldn't lead to exactly human-like psychological results.))  
> Inks: (Creation's full of lopsided personalities.)  
> Inks: (Anyway, I'm not ready to make a decision yet, but I have options. Hinna is next, and I'm wondering what Vahti considers 'dressed')  
> 

Inks arrived back at her manor to find Vahti showing a great deal of green-tinted skin, with only a breastband and several layers of silk skirts for modesty. As a fire elemental; she didn't need to fear the harsh rays of the sun - indeed, her kind were comfortable even further South; far beyond the range where humans could roam without protection.

Inks looked her retainer-consort-whatever-Vahti-Felt-Like-That-Day over with a playfully critical eye. "Sexy. I approve." She retrieved an airy, gauzy silk cloak from a nearby wardrobe and draped it over the elementals' head and shoulders. "You'd get more of an impact if you hide it and then reveal it suddenly." She explained. So equipped, the pair moved on to meet Hinna at the assayer's earliest convenience.

Hinna was apparently more than a little _miffed_ about being forgotten for so long, as Inks was told rather shortly by a servant that she would have to wait for an appointment until Miss an-Reswah's schedule had an opening for her.

Inks cocked her head to one side, then the other. Push ahead and apologize in person, or wait until she's cooled off.... Inks considered the rammifications of the alchemist's research and decided better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. She with no small amount of sweet words, urged for a speedy resolution.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Speed the Wheels, int+bur +3 autosux, +1 stunt I bet. Difficulty is 1, does Hinna or someone in her court obstruct inks? If yes, I take their [int+bur]/2 as an external penalty)  
> ST: ((Roll Int+Bur +Essence autosux for Speed the Wheels against an external penalty of 3. Diff 1.))  
> Inks: (dohohoh)  
> ST: ((And yes, 1-dot stunt.))  
> Inks: (...Lulz, I rolled 1 success. That strictly speaking means I succeeded)  
> ST: ((Lol. Close one.))  
> ST: ((She was intending to leave you waiting for at least a day or two, so this divides that by 4.))  
> Inks: (So 8-16 hours to kill.... Honestly that gives me more than enough time to ward a guest room in Inks's townhouse. So let's do that with Private Plaza of Downcast Eyes. There's no roll involved, so I'll just stunt it. Sound good?)  
> ST: ((Go for it.))  
> 

Bemused and sincerely apologetic, Inks confirmed her new meeting time and evaluated some sorcerous particulars. "I can start on another project now, I suppose." She told Vahti with a wry shrug, and headed back home. Picking one of the empty guest rooms, she secured a supply of carefully ground glass and practiced the Mudra of Separation.

Walking the interior perimeter of the room, she carefully spread the glass and focused her Essence, until finally the spell took hold with a surprisingly sedate outrushing of magic. Drained but satisfied, she tugged an all-too-eager Vahti to the baths for a post-spell soak and cuddle.

Not long later, Inks and Vahit were ready to meet with Hinna properly.

Inks' cajoling words and persuasive arguments apparently cooled off Hinna's temper sooner rather than later, and it was late that afternoon that she finally deigned to see them. The intricate golden bindi and heavy makeup was still there, though she wore the more formal white and black robes of an assayer this time and sat behind a desk nestled among a multitude of shelves that contained small drawers, tightly rolled scrolls, books, locked compartments, capped bottles and bulging coarse-woven bags.

Despite having made the appointment, she still spent a minute or two examining a pair of rubies through a loupe before dropping them into separate locking drawers before greeting her guests. "Madame Inks," she said snippily. "So nice to see you have time to visit."

"I screwed up and mismanaged my time and commitments. I have no excuse." Inks offered, Vahti at her side and openly gawking at rich, lived-in office. "I did look over your research notes, and I admit I was concerned..." She outlined the more lethal implications, and wondered aloud how Hinna *survived* some of the experimental procedures.

Hinna's lips pinched tightly shut. "Perhaps we should talk elsewhere," she suggested, hurrying to lead them to a small door at the back of her office. "Is your companion trustworthy, madame?"

"I vouch for her, yes." And Vahti had the good sense to nod solemnly. Inks winced then. "I'm sorry, I'm not at top form it seems. I should have been more circumspect." She admitted, once Hinna moved them into a more private room.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll me Cha+Presence for being convincingly apologetic and reassuring and interested in what she has to share and so on.))  
> Inks: (1st excellency, 14d +2 stunt)  
> Inks: (Rolled 7 successes)  
> 

It was some way down a narrow flight of stairs - down into the Ring tunnels, Inks was pretty sure - and past two branches in the staircase. At the bottom was a large subterranean room with a blocked-up doorway; leaving the stairwell as the only means of access.

Here, too, were the marks of an assayer; gem drawers, a workbench, various tools - but they were joined with less innocent fare. The items of an alchemist's trade were arranged against one wall, and in the corner, trapped within a circle of tin, was a stomach bottle bug. Various wall hangings ranged from abstract to technical, all with occult significance, and the walls looked more like surface-stone weathered by sun than the normal material of the tunnels.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Occult to assess anything of occult significance; Diff 3.))  
> ST: ((... besides the bug, I mean.))  
> Inks: (wits 2 occult 3, +3 autosux)  
> Inks: (Rolled 2+3)  
> 

Inks' eyes were drawn to several more gems that looked like the one Hinna had brought to show her - sun-crystals - as well as shaped charms of a metal she recognised as tumbaga.

She also noticed some of the wall hangings. Those marks looked abstract or spiritual in nature, but they weren't. They had hidden in them marks and signs of demonic influence - and worship. The trappings of an infernalist.

Inks whistled softly. "I admit I'm envious. I haven't had a chance to really set up a proper lab like you have." She playfully rapped her forehead. "Time management is a tough gig." 

"So back to my original question- which I assume that answers-" She pointed at the stomach bottle bug. "You've been testing your concoctions on yourself and avoiding gruesome poisonous death wtih those."

The bug in question stirred, noticing the newcomers and greeting Hinna with a reedy "salutations, mistress," before being ordered silent by a flick of her fingers.

Hinna, for her part, nodded. The snappiness was receding somewhat now that she had Inks engaged, and she warmed to her topic swiftly. "Purifying the body was a necessary step, but mortal flesh is weak. The sessalja sufficed - and still comes in useful from time to time. But enough about that; you came to talk of research."

She moved over to the desk with the sunstones and held one up. "Alchemically treated glowstones," she explained. "They make for passable storage of sunlight; but the tinctures involved render them fragile, and their shattering proves... destructive. Diamond is a far better container - but harder to treat, and harder to channel sunlight into."

Tapping the tumbaga charms, she smirked. "However, I have come into some material that may be able to solve these problems - and with your help, we may be able to infuse sunlight into a stored form on a level far beyond what I've so far been able to manage."

"Hmm..." She reached out for one of the heavier gold pieces, hefting it in her fingers and assessing its qualities for the purpose Hinna intended. "It has potential..." She asked permission to borrow a few instruments, nothing destructive, but there was much to be learned from displacement tests, calipers to determine proportions, and so on...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Craft + Holy Goldsmith Style on 'sunlight channeling)  
> ST: ((Diff 4 - you're just checking the plausibility; actually coming up with it would be harder.))  
> Inks: (13d -1 difficulty for 'working with gold' master perk... +10d from 1st excellency)  
> Inks: (successes)  
> ST: ((... was it really necessary to expend that many motes on a Diff 3 roll?))  
> ST: ((You are keeping track of mote expenditure, right?))  
> Inks: (I am, I have about 30m left)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (I've spent 7+6+10m this scene of my uncommitted. So make that more like 25m left, I'll be firing up the castemark next action I bet)  
> 

It's certainly plausible, Inks decided as she looked over the equipment and queried the plans. It would need her anima banner to really hit peak effectiveness, but just setting up a system of mirrors for sunlight would get Hinna a pretty powerful gem full of quite a lot of harnessed solar essence.

The thought did occur to Inks, though... just what was Hinna planning to _do_ with such a thing, once she had it?

"So what's it for? A power source?" Inks set the tumbaga down, turning to face the sorcerer with an openly curious expression.

"A proof of concept," Hinna said blithely. "I'm sure you could use the same principles towards your own ends, should it prove successful."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's ear on 'Proof of concept)  
> ST: ((Half-truth.))  
> 

Inks could not really hide her frown. I'm sure I could find a use for it, but... I have concerns." What those concerns were, Inks was not sure how to put into words.

Drifting over to another desk, Hinna arched an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Well they'd sound like accusations and ridiculous pulp-horror plots." She admitted, finding a clear counter to sit on and let her feet dangle above the floor.

Letting out a quiet "hah," Hinna produced a trio of goblets, a gold jug and a number of bottles of varying sizes. Uncorking the largest - wine, from the smell - she emptied it into the jug, dashed in a few of the smaller ones and decanted the resulting mix into the goblets.

Gathering two into one hand, she sipped at the third and offered them to Inks and Vahti. "Well, I'm not an easily offended woman. Why don't we sit down and work through your concerns like rational women?"

Taking the wine with a wry grin, she toasted the other sorcerer. "Fair enough- You could be making terrible sun-bombs; or trying to channel the power into yourself and I don't know, bootstrap youself up to be like me? Ascend to godhood and usurp the Unconquered Sun?" She shrugged. "Like I said, accusatory and ridiculous. The _science_ is interesting, but I'm more of an engineer, looking at applications."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Just as a note, I keep a stomach bottle bug as well, not sure if Hinna knows that)  
> ST: ((I'm aware, yes.))  
> 

Hinna laughed. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound given her normally tight and slightly snippish voice, and made Inks' stomach squirm oddly. "Ah, the stories of the Anathema!" she said merrily. "Ascending to godhood on the back of stolen sunpower. I'll admit, it _would_ be a tempting prospect, wouldn't it?" She paused, looking Inks up and down assessingly. "May I show you something, madame? You must promise secrecy."

Inks looked at Vahti, who agreed with a gentle and earnest nod. While brazen and wild, Flame Ducks knew discipline. "You have my word."

Turing around, Hinna reached up and removed the intricate golden bindi that covered most of her forehead. Inks could see her swiping at her cheeks, removing the thickly-daubed makeup that helped keep her looking youthful despite her age.

Then she turned back around, and Inks' insides seemed to flip in surprise. She heard Vahti's shocked gasp, but was more focused on the still-youthful face, with its skin of _living gold_ and a caste mark identical to Inks' own. It wasn't a thing of glowing essence like a true caste mark though - this was embossed; almost seeming _carved_ into the woman's forehead.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Occult to identify what the fuck; Diff 3))  
> Inks: (4m on 2nd excellency, I'm down to 17m. Gonna stunt and turn on my caste mark)  
> ST: ((go for it.))  
> 

Inks did not recoil, though there was no mistaking the undisguised surprise and interest on her face. She hopped off the counter and approached Hinna, her own caste mark igniting on an unspoken cue and hovering above the fringe of her hair. Hinna's mark caught the light and drank it in eagerly, shining lustrous both on her skin and the impressed gold.

Inks: (so 5+3+2d; +2 sux, regaining 2m/action)  
Inks: (Rolled _Eight_ successes +2; *sunglasses*)

Of _course_ , Inks thought. She should have thought of it before. Mortals couldn't reach true sorcery and retain their mortality - to gain such power they needed to transcend themselves; become more enlightened than humankind could by themselves become.

All that focus on purifying her body and channeling sunlight and exposing herself to essence - it must all have been for this. Hinna was no longer mortal - not entirely _human_ anymore; her souls fused together and her nature made something more like a hellish akuma or wyld behemoth than a member of a widespread species.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Or to put it in mechanical terms; mortals who want sorcery have to shed their mortality as their Sacrifice to get it. She's basically something like a behemoth now - a unique once-human being who transformed herself into a sun-themed sorcerer-entity, retaining her human mind and will.))  
> Inks: (Huh. That's... a lot different to the Creation I'm used to. Not Bad, just Different)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Hinna is at least in part to tutorialize this. It leaves space open for "mortal sorcerers" but makes it rare and difficult for a would-be to do by themselves and makes them pretty weird beings.))  
> 

"So you see," said Hinna with a soft, smug smirk. "I have no need to try to ascend to godhood. I already have done."

Inks laughed. "Bragging is unbecoming of a being of your stature." She hummed. "So you're not actually old, you wear makeup on makeup so people think you age?"

"And to disguise the gold skin," Hinna smiled. "It's a little too obvious for-"

Presumably, she kept talking. If so, Inks didn't hear her, because her guts wrenched. Then lurched. And then a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her stomach as it emptied and refilled in a second. Grains of silver sand spilled from her mouth as she coughed. To one side of her, Vahti slipped from where she was leaning against a desk and staggered; barely keeping her feet.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So. I won't bother requiring a roll to interpret this, since Inks can put it together in fairly short order. Hinna is an alchemist. Hinna is an infernalist. And Hinna has a pet stomach bottle bug that she can run tests on. That drink she just fed Inks was an alchemical Banishing rite that forced Inks' bug back to Hell, mixed with a knockout drug.))  
> ST: ((The bug managed to eat some of the drug before getting ripped out and cast into the Desert, and Inks is an Exalt, so she's got a few minutes before it kicks in and the dose she got might not be enough to take her down. She can try to use this opportunity to escape, or you can choose to have her succumb and play out whatever Hinna has in mind for her.))  
> ST: ((Hinna and Vahti weren't affected by the banisher because they, uh, didn't have demons in them, and Hinna presumably has some defense against the sleepydrug.))  
> 

"The _hell_ -" Inks stared at the saliva-caked gunk spattered on the ground, and reared up with no small amount of heat. She reached out into the air itself and Chronicle fell into her hand, wreathed in a whirling nimbus of golden sunfire. She coughed, spiting out more wet sand. "M-Maji's going to get here faster than you'd want, so I would _very much_ like an explanation before a pissed off tiger-god grandson finds you!"

>   
> Inks: (Hmm. By crunch, Inks has a sta+resist pool of 3 before stunt. Let's trust the dice!)  
> Inks: (Call the Blade for reflexive draw, btw)  
> Inks: (So I'll need the difficulty to resist the drug; 'knockout' drugs don't exactly exist by RAW, so we probably won't use straight Poison rules for this, just something for me to roll against? I can at best add 3d or 1sux, before virtues/WP from Excellency)  
> ST: ((Okay, the room is small enough that she's going to be taking penalties to use Chronicle in there - it's confined quarters, and the narrow stairwell will make using a blade of that size simply inapplicable. Well, I mean, unless you lay it flat on the stairs and surf it down.))  
> ST: ((The drug gives her a -2 internal penalty from her head being clouded, and is Toxicity 4. That means that each interval - which are action-long - Inks rolls (Stamina+Resistance) against Diff 4. If she succeeds, no damage. If she fails, she takes a point of Bashing. There are 10 intervals, and I believe Inks has the standard 7 health levels, so seven failed rolls will knock her out. The damage never wraps around to lethal.))  
> Inks: (Alright; so by raw, the penalty never applies to the resistance roll- this is why White Veil encourages you to use multiple poisons, because the penalty from poison A can make poison B harder to resist and vice-versa)  
> ST: ((... huh. Really? I didn't remember that aspect. Fair enough. However, wound penalties _will_ apply to it, I think - so the more Inks slips under the sway of the drug, the harder it'll be to shrug off the pull.))  
> Inks: (Wound penalties do yes, but poison penalties aren't wound penalties iirc unless they say they are; this is to make sure you always satisfy the minimum dice rule, as only wounds and flurries can break that)  
> Inks: (Anyway... Rolling 5d from stunt)  
> 

Hinna was already backing away towards the stairwell. "I'm aware of your familiar," she scoffed. "Even if it gets here, it won't be able to fit its bulk down the stairs - and the other routes in are very much sealed. If you'd been willing to collaborate freely I wouldn't have had to resort to these measures, but needs must."

>   
> Inks: (2 successes so far, fail diff 4, 1 bashing in my -0 level; I'm assuming these are autolevels, not dice?, would make sense for a knockout poison.)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> ST: ((So, Hinna is making for the stairwell. Vahti is staggering. Wut do?))  
> 

Inks risked a glance at Vahti, who was struggling to stand and looking as woozy as Inks felt- the Elemental was as sturdy as she was, which admittedly wasn't very. Turning to Hinna, Inks hefted her weapon in both hands, defiant. She cast around for something to do- anything. Chronicle could cleave through walls, but not easily... She had to try! Moving forward, she sketched out an improvised low-to-high stroke, the heavy blade Inks clipping the stairwell edge and shattering stone with the impact!

>   
> Inks: (Basic melee attack on Hinna, trying it out and seeing what you do.)  
> Inks: (Dex 2, Melee 3, +2 acc, +3 style, +2 stunt; DV?)  
> ST: ((Okay, hmm. Let's first call this an opposed Dex+Athletics roll for Inks to tag her or for her to get far enough into the stairwell to avoid the blow. 1-2 successes on Inks' part means a glancing blow buffered somewhat by the stone, 3+ means full contact and probably a dead Hinna.))  
> Inks: (Alright, that's gonna be 3d + stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Sigh. Neither of them exactly have fantastic pools for this. : P))  
> Inks: (I rolled 2 sux on 5d.)  
> Inks: (Honestly I like this, it's better than all these homogenized 5/5/3/3 pools all over the place)  
> ST: ((... uh. Reroll that and include the -2 internal penalty.))  
> 17 Inks: (...oh yeah!)  
> ST: ((lawl))  
> Inks: (1 sux!)  
> 33 Inks: (+1 ST xp for using internal penalties!)  
> ST: ((Hinna rolled 1 sux on 4.))  
> Inks: (So another poison roll)  
> ST: ((Hang on, lemme stunt~))  
> 

Alas, the drug-haze dulled Inks' reactions. Though her swipe sent up a spray of stone shards, it missed its target, and the debris that showered Hinna's back pinged off with dulled metallic sounds as she scurried up the stairwell out of reach. Apparently her skin really was like metal.

>   
> ST: ((Okay, another poison roll.))  
> Inks: (1 sux on 3d, I'm in my -1s. I now have no feasible way to fight out of this, so we can say Inks succumbs)  
> ST: ((Sure thing. Stunt as you wish - and remember that Vahti can become a duck of flame. If you want to have Inks call out to her to make her escape up the stairwell with her waning strength, you can do so as a narrative reward for choosing to succumb without rolling it out.))  
> ST: ((Hinna probably can't catch a small, drunkenly-swerving flame duck on the wing. : P))  
> 

Coughing, Inks slumped down on Chronicle's massive crossguard, her vision swam while Hinna crept back up the stairwell as fast as her golden body would allow. She coughed again. "V-Vahti. Fly! Get Pipera- Ajjim! Watch for-for Maji!"

It took her loyal attendant a couple of tries, but her short form flashed into fire and from it flew a small bird of living flame. Drunkenly swerving, it barely missed the wall at the side of the stairwell, but managed to thread the needle nonetheless. Hinna grabbed for it, but missed - perhaps she wasn't entirely immune to the drug herself - and the impacts of Vahti's little body against the walls echoed down as she forced herself up towards daylight and aid.  
  


>   
> ST: The last thing Inks remembered seeing, as she slumped down to the floor and began to go numb, was the blurry form of Hinna descending back down towards her.  
> ST: ((And call it there, I think. 5xp+2xp narrative reward+2mxp.))  
> Inks: (I used some sorcery too~)  
> ST: ((Oh yes, so you did. +1Sxp.))  
> ST: ((Actually, no, let's say +3))  
> Inks: +3 Sorcerous xp?  
> ST: ((Yeah, that tied into an ongoing plotline.))  
> Inks: Fun  
> Inks: Drama! Intrigue!  
> ST: Indeed!  
> Inks: Any thoughts of your own?
> 
> ST: I have been eagerly awaiting several things that happened in this session - first time to have someone take direct aggressive action against Inks herself, first combat, and the reveal of Hinna's nefarious goals. I actually didn't _expect_ it to happen so soon, but it sort of slid into place that after eight months she'd decided that Inks wasn't intending to collaborate honestly with her and had made up her mind to take what she wanted by force (which of course will be detailed further next session).
> 
> ST: I also wanted to tutorialize the importance of environment by leading you fairly believably into a place that restricted some of your options - especially how Chronicle's size can be a limitation.
> 
> ST: Inks has built her home to be powerful home ground for her assets - Maji and Chronicle both have plenty of space there. And it's up above ground where, in the courtyard, she can easily find some way of cutting the overhead hangings and letting the sun in, which is oppressive and painful to enemies but not to her.
> 
> ST: But on other people's territory, she's not always able to leverage her full power to such an extent.
> 
> ST: How did you take it? Was it too railroady? I tried to foreshadow as much as I could.  
> Inks: aye- though I should point out that there was really no mechanical 'heft' to the enclosed space  
> ST: Hmm. Yes. Will do better on that next time.  
> Inks: well, I'd been consistently suspicious of Hinna, and I admit once she revealed her gold skin, I thought 'oh hey, kindred spirit' and was ready to actually work with her more openly  
> ST: oh, Hinna  
> Inks: but, like you said waaay back in the earliest despot scenes, sometimes it's okay for people to be entertainingly wrong  
> ST: Yes. : D  
> Inks: I'm going to touch on this in the post mortem, but one thing about this whole KIND of plot is that it risks a certain amount of screentime...cancer, for lack of a better term. That sounds too negative for what I mean- but basically, as I've mentioned before, when players aren't Doing Their Things, they feel like their time is being wasted. A lot of my GOGOGO ness is rooted in that.  
> Inks: So this kind of plot IS a hard tangent to 'Mercantile empire  
> ST: Hmm. Yes, understood.
> 
> Inks: Now having said that, I DID have fun and I am interested in seeing where this is going. I however, do not have a very powerful spread of dots or Charms to get out of this situation either, so there's a game-balance question involved.
> 
> ST: Oh yeah, almost forgot. This is also a tutorialization about the risks of letting plot threads lie for too long. It won't always (or even necessarily _often_ ) end badly - many things can contentedly wait their turn - but some plot events are time-limited and ignoring them for too long can make them go sour.
> 
> ST: There's a balance there of course in not wanting to have to constantly keep up with lots and lots of NPCs, but at the same time, I don't want something where you can tell someone "I'll get right on that" and then not come back to them for a year.  
> ST: Or well, you can do that. But they may not be happy about it.  
> Inks: Agreed, I did get that impression. If Hinna had been say, an Ally, mechanized on Inks's sheet, it probably would have not been a problem  
> Inks: But she wasn't  
> ST: ((While, say, Celi is a much safer contact - Inks hasn't promised her anything or made any agreements, so she's just presumably doing court sorcerer stuff.))  
> Inks: aye, but Celi was connected more firmly to the despot, and I wanted to compartmentalize a touch more.  
> Inks: Query: Can Vahti learn TCS?  
> ST: yeah, just using her as an example of "NPC sorcerer who won't get upset if Inks doesn't interact with her for a year or so"  
> Inks: legit  
> ST: In principle yes, in practice not at her current Essence rating. She must construct additional pylons.  
> ST: wait, wrong game  
> ST: : P  
> Inks: No no right game, pylons are a totally exalted-okay conciet  
> ST: lawl  
> ST: but yeah, she needs to up her Essence rating, but she can learn it once she's powerful enough  
> Inks: Inks's two big materials imo, three likely, are the gold-group, sapphire and diamond/crystal  
> ST: at the moment she is ickle babby flame duck  
> Inks: i figured  
> ST: so cute  
> ST: much quack  
> ST: very burn  
> ST: hawt  
> :35 Inks: Cute in that 'Stacked' sort of way  
> ST: : P  
> ST: Right then! I definitely had fun with this session. Thanks for playing!  
> Inks: I did too! Thanks for running.


	24. Session 24: The 125 Sins and a Sassy Solar

Consciousness returned like Inks had to her parents’ home on occasion in her youth; furtively slinking back and trying to pretend it hadn’t been absent. Also like a younger Inks; it did so in the company of several new and creative thoughts, though in this case very few of them were fit for polite company.

Then the fear hit, shocking her awake and only through force of will did she manage not to bolt upright. Careful, with shallow breaths and the most careful of movements, she strained her ears for any hint of her surroundings.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa, info dependent on successes))  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [9, 10, 5, 9, 4, 9, 4] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

She was lying on stone; hard and gritty and warm. She was underground, from the generally stifling feeling, but her closed eyelids were painted a reddish tint, so she wasn't in the dark. She didn't feel claustrophobic, but neither was there the echoing sense of empty space that spoke of a large room. Wherever she was, it was of middling size.

Now, her ears. There was something in the room with her. She could hear it moving. From the faint rustling of paper, she thought it might be reading, and the faint shifting of metal was some sort of chain - but were they holding it or chained up themselves? 

Further away and more muffled - probably outside the room she was in or behind a door - was a sound she definitely recognized; the clicking buzz of anuhles. Lots of them. There was a clanking, grinding, rattling sound as well - some sort of machinery, and in the same general area as the demon-spiders. 

And strangely enough, she could also hear the very faint sound of moving air. It was unusually steady and constant, but there was definitely some sort of breeze near her, albeit one she couldn't feel.

Testing her limbs, Inks let out a quiet sigh and slowly sat up. Kidnapping, torture, worse things happened to pretty girls in Nexus- it's why no one went anywhere without a hired guard, or at least a friend with a big stick. 

Taking in the room at a glance, she gave herself a quick once over, careful not to let her caste mark flare in the medium light.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis self, any medically relevant symptoms?)  
> ST: ((N))  
> Inks: (Well, assuming you're writing, Inks is upright and using her eyes now)  
> 

The drug had apparently left her system - Inks spared a hope that Vahti was waking up somewhere as well, and that she'd made it to safety before succumbing to unconsciousness. The room was indeed fairly small; a few metres across and carved from a red stone she was pretty sure wasn't local.

There was a thick, sturdy-looking wooden door in the wall opposite her, and everything but a thin corridor of space on that side was split into five sections - five _cells_ \- by iron bars driven deep into the floor and ceiling. Enough light to see by spilled through an open grate at head-height in the door, but she was at the wrong angle to see through it. Her cell was the second from the left, and her wall-side neighbour held the fellow prisoner she'd heard. 

Looking up from its book, a lilac-skinned, boyish-looking neomah blinked at her curiously. "Oh," it said. "You're awake. Hello."

"Hi.." Inks scrubbed at her hair, idly feeling around for her artifact bindi. She'd drawn Chronicle, in hindsight a less good idea- being able to pull a sword from nothing would've been handy right now. "M'names Inks. You?"

"Bidaha." The neomah watched as Inks failed to locate her bindi - damn, that was probably in Hinna's hands too - and put its book down. "So, how are you special? Are you brave? Mm, no, I don't think so. Kind, maybe? Does your heart bleed for others?"

"Doctor, Artificer, merchant-queen, Twilight Solar." Inks offered with a wry grin. "What are you in for?"

Bidaha blinked again, and... well, neomah were female no matter what they looked like, so 'she' was probably right despite this particular demon looking like a slender prettyboy - she leaned forward, approaching the bars that separated them. " _You're_ the sun-wielder, then." A sly smile slid onto her face. "I'm surprised at her."

"Howso?" Inks gave Bidaha a quick once over, both medically and to see how she was bound. Hinna may've been a Sorcerer, but that didn't mean she knew the actual spell to summon demons- did she beckon them or not...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Occult on Bidaha and FDT as well)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, okay, I'll allow it. Roll with a 2-dot stunt. Hidden Diff.))  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [10, 10, 6, 2, 5, 10, 4, 5, 10, 6] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> ST: ((She's not bound - which doesn't surprise Inks; if she were there'd be no point in her being in the cell, save maybe to trick Inks into talking. And there's... well, the instant Y/N version of FDT is giving the same sort of confusing diagnosis it gave on Tatters' injuries. There's _something_ going on with her, enough to read as "not quite right", but it's not exactly wrong and it's only somewhat medical.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha- basically FDT's instant mode is 'are they sweating from fever or sweating from exertion', and the long mode is 'why are they sweating- oh, they've got a cold')  
> Inks: (Anyway, legit. Also question: is Inks still wearing what she was wearing when meeting Hinna?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, she hasn't been changed, just frisked.))  
> 

Frowning, Inks swept a hand up behind her back and started gathering up her hair- of course Hinna took her hair sticks. Her customary bun belied the fact that she had more than three feet of hair to work with. Tying everything up into a tight, efficient braid, she hummed. "So why are you a prisoner?"

Bidaha shrugged. "I used to be her ally," she said a dispirited sigh. "Now I'm her prisoner, and I know less about what she's doing. But I can't imagine she was prepared to kidnap a sun-wielder. I thought you were just another pure soul." She eyed Inks with a little too much intent interest to be innocent.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Socialise to read her.))  
> ST: ((... huh, you beat my reply. : P))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [10, 2, 5, 7, 5, 3, 1, 7] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

As she said this, she started to examine the cell walls, the stone bed and more. Non-native stone, something she could break bare-handed with the right application of Essence... She considered Bidaha's words as she scanned the room.

The neomah was being a little too eager offering hints. She _wanted_ Inks to ask more, wanted to her to want what Bidaha knew. It didn't seem overtly malevolent, though - Inks felt more like she was chasing the feeling of being needed, of her knowledge being desired, than anything else. 

Certainly, her question put a smile on the demon's face, albeit one tinged with bitterness. "She hasn't let me out in all the time I've been here," Bidaha said sulkily. "Her tasks for me used to be interesting things, but now they're base and boring. And..." 

She paused. It was either hesitation from discomfort or a deliberate invitation for more prompting. Perhaps a bit of both.

"How much fleshcrafting do you get to do?" Inks wondered aloud. She could make a weapon from the iron bars, a shield from the door, if need be. Damn her bookish nature for reading adventure stories and not true histories of jail breaks and so on! She looked around more for that oddly steady breeze as well.

Bidaha pouted. "Nowadays? None. It's... it's been a long time since she let me raise my tower." She looked genuinely distressed at that; some deeper fear underlying the resentment. "Nowadays it's just making sure her new body works properly. It's a beautiful piece of work, but one can only admire it so many times."

She cocked her head, eyes gleaming. "Would you like to know where you are?"

"Wouldn't hurt. Unless we're in Malfeas. Then it'd really hurt." Inks smirked.

The neomah shook her head slowly. "You're thinking of escaping. Breaking out of the cell and overcoming the guards; finding a way out. Is that right?"

"Well obviously, yes." She sat down on the stone bed and folded one leg over the other, in complete defiance of her situation. Hinna had not kept her drugged, and that was her mistake. "Enlighten me as to why we can't escape."

Those dark eyes followed her, and Bidaha assumed a similar position. Cocking her head, she focused for a moment and her body shifted; flesh flowing inward here and outward there until she was clearly female. And stacked enough to match Inks, for that matter.

"Is this better?" she asked, dancing around answering Inks' question with a sort of impish joy that reminded Inks of Pesala experimenting with a new skill to see what she could do with it. "Or did you prefer me the other way?"

"Your priorities are a little skewed." Inks decided. "But generally yes. Focus, Bidaha." The words were short and simple, but weighed with a certain power that meant to cut through smalltalk.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Cha+Pres/Invest for Bidaha to exposit)  
> ST: ((Heh. Roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 9 +1; Inks: [9, 7, 3, 2, 5, 6, 7, 2, 5] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (dang)  
> ST: ((Juuuuuust barely enough, with Intimacy-modifiers.))  
> 

Bidaha gave her that sly smile again, and gestured to the door. "You might take this room, but beyond that door is nothing but a long, long drop. Like a tunnel, but leading straight up - the inside of a natural tower. And demon-spiders bound to her service make their webs on the walls; too many to overcome. The only..."

She paused. The grinding, clanking, rattling noise was back. And it was getting closer this time. A look of almost-fear flittered across Bidaha's face and she shrunk back into the boyish form she'd favoured when Inks awoke.

"The only way up or down is the elevator," she whispered, snatching up her book and flicking it open. "It's coming now." That said, she turned her attention to the pages, her back to Inks' cell, and did her best to seem ignorant of Inks' mere existence.

To that Inks blinked. She walked over to the cell door and peered out into the hallway, if for no other reason than to see this elevator and maybe the other cells.

The grinding and clanking got closer and closer before stopping, and the door swung open with a click. Hinna an-Reswah entered, along with a demon that had to stoop to enter; a huge ape-like thing covered in a layer of buzzing, swarming insects. 

Hinna eyed Bidaha suspiciously, but the neomah only curled tighter into her corner; staring intently at her book and trying not to acknowledge her captor or the guard. With a slight shrug, Hinna unlocked Inks' cell with a key from around her neck and gestured Inks out. 

"You can follow or be carried," she said sharply. "One of them lets you avoid suffering this brute's touch."

"Following works." Inks agreed, idly tapping her heels against the floor.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll to identify the demon if she wishes))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [2, 8, 9, 6, 8, 8, 9, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (I saw the writeup in the Exalted thread, actually)  
> ST: ((Heh.))  
> Inks: (So anything relevant to Inks is fine too)  
> ST: ((Well now Inks knows in-character.))  
> 

* * *

Hmm. Fly ogre, Inks thought as she followed Hinna out onto a rickety platform. Pyrian demons with no hint of virtue that were pained by praise or respect and useful only as brute labour and for their skill at finding things of value amidst dross. They were probably how Hinna had carved out this place from... what looked like a lava column. A fairly large one.

Anuhle-webs covered the walls; the silk glowing a dull red, and the spiders themselves watched from a dozen different angles. They weren't a breed Inks recognized - red marbled carapaces and opal-like eyes, about the size of large dogs. The ogre began to slowly pull on a rope, and the uncomfortably rickety platform they stood on began to descend in jerks. 

Inks could see down through a gap in the boards that made up the platform. It was a long, long way down into darkness - only the uppermost part of the shaft was lit by mirrors that must be getting sunlight from somewhere near the top. She couldn't see the bottom, but she had a feeling that would be true even if the whole thing were lit. It felt bottomless.

The elevator shuddered and jerked to a halt at another door, which Hinna unlocked. "In," she ordered, with a meaningful glance at the looming ogre.  
Inks: "Going, going." Every second was that much more information on how to escape. She cast about the new chamber for insights, ideas, potential assets. "So what's the plan here, Hinna? I'm not a demon you can bind or trick."

"Save the backtalk," Hinna snapped. This chamber was larger; an alchemical lab that must be her most secretive of retreats. There were several windows on... it must be the north wall, if they were still in Gem, probably somewhere up Rankar Peak. Yes, she could dimly feel Maji behind her and... down, quite a long way down. 

So, somewhere up a lava column in the Peak. The windows were arrowslit things whose frames were studded with opals, and looked to be cutting through at least a metre of rock. Sunlight streamed through in narrow wedges. If Inks could fit her wrist into one; she'd be lucky. No escape through that way. 

What else was there to be had? The expected things - workbenches, cauldrons, lots of quite intricate glasswork, several glass-horned canine demons with hands instead of front paws that were clustered around a demon-summoning circle... 

... aaaaand a giant contraption made of massive blocky slabs of lead, which sealed together with a very thick door to make a chamber that could just about fit a person inside it. It loomed ominously. Inks was even tempted to say it lurked. She was not getting good vibes from the giant lead chamber. Unfortunately, it seemed to be where she was being guided, and the fly ogre wrestled the four-inch-thick door open ahead of her.

Hinna offered her a glass full of some dark blue concoction. "Drink this, stand in there," she said. "That's all I'll ask of you today."

Inks frowned and took an experimental whiff, aiming to discern the stuff's purpose. Whatever it was, probably wasn't going to be good for her. More demons, likely tough enough to pile on her. The fly-wreathed hulk was also an issue. Fighting her way out... She eyed the contraption next, noting its construction, the faint hint of runes and binding magics.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Roll against the substance and the device for information.)  
> ST: ((Heh. Roll Per+Occult at Diff 5.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [8, 1, 2, 7, 6, 6, 10, 2, 6, 10] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

... oh, Inks thought. Well. This was going to be amusing. From the smell, this was another demon-expelling draught. A stronger one. And the giant lead chamber was covered in binding magics to keep essence contained, which meant that presumably, the plan here was to force the Anathema-demon out of her body and keep it trapped in the chamber for Hinna to absorb.

Which was going to run into the slight problem that Inks was not in fact a mortal host possessed by an Anathema-demon, and thus there was nothing to force out.

She wondered how many draughts of increasing strength Hinna was going to try feeding her before getting the message that it wasn't working.

She didn't want to drink it, but at the same time, doing so would buy her time. She downed the thick sludge in one fitful gulp and tossed the glass on the rock floor, letting it shatter. Then she stalked into the device, tossing a belligerent glare Hinna's way. "Let's get this over with."

The heavy door slammed shut on her, and she heard the locks engage. Barely any light filtered through the heavily-tinted window, but it was enough to see why so many binding runes were needed on the outside of the chamber. There was some pretty horrific scarring on the inside; bleached metal, scorch marks, extreme weathering. All the signs she'd expect from severe essence overexposure. 

Was this where Hinna had subjected herself to essence irradiation to 'purify' her body? If so, she'd apparently been doing even harsher things to herself than Inks had thought. Or maybe it was just some sort of testing chamber for unstable sungems... but that didn't explain why it was big enough to fit a person inside. 

She waited for a few more minutes, seeing the dim shape of Hinna moving back and forth outside, until it became clear that nothing was happening. Because there was no demon to expel. Several more minutes stretched on until Hinna appeared to accept this too, and the chamber creaked open. Her captor did not appear to be in a good mood.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Inks was back in her cell, while a furious Hinna berated her dog-alchemists below.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Do you want to resume conversation with Bidaha to extract more information, or push on to more action-based stuff?))  
> Inks: (Thinking- To confirm, the elevator went DOWN to the sun lab, correct? Not up?)  
> ST: ((Yes, the cells are above it - meaning climbing down would force her to go past the lab, and the elevator is... not quiet.))  
> Inks: (Let's meet back with Bidaha for a moment, I'm brainstorming)  
> 

Bidaha was back to her full-bodied, female form as the fly ogre deposited Inks back next-door to her. "You see?" she said sympathetically. "All I told you was true. There is no escaping this place."

"Hardly." Inks hummed. "I can dig through the walls with my bare hands if I have to. It'd just take time." She wandered over to the waste pot, noting that it had a drain elsewhere into the complex. It was distasteful, but she wanted that banishment gunk out. After taking care of that and wiping her mouth with one arm, Inks frowned. "Do you have any idea where Hinna would have kept my artifacts? A sword taller than I am would need one of those ogres to move."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Yeah, you've probably noticed this, but Inks has observed that Bidaha has a strong - though probably fairly new - Intimacy towards, mm, "intellectual temptation". Possibly as an outgrowth of the more carnal temptations that are the norm for neomah. She's quite eager to dole out information because she likes being _wanted_ for what she can tell people.))  
> Inks: (makes sense)  
> 

"Getting out of the cell is one thing," Bidaha shrugged. "Getting down from such height is another. I haven't been let out of this place for months," again that flicker of gnawing fear, "but she keeps quarters below her workspace. And storerooms off the main laboratory for those things that must be kept in the cold or the dark. Your things will probably be there."

"The mountainside is easier to climb than the elevator shaft. Are there any other prisoners?" She paused. "And what are you by chance good at?"

"None in the last two weeks," Bidaha said, with the lilt that Inks was beginning to associate with her wanting more questions. "She's late. It's why I thought you were a pure soul at first." 

"And I'm a neomah. I weave flesh and ply my trade," she crossed her legs alluringly and leaned forward to frame her cleavage, though it seemed to be more out of habit than with any enthusiasm. "Why do you like this form better, by the way? What makes you like it? Where does your desire come from?"

"I generally find women attractive, and I like signifiers of health and wellness. Curves usually are, as opposed to rolls." Inks admitted. "Alright..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Quick per+occult check, are anhule webs flammable?)  
> Inks: (Or more specifically, are the webs in the elevator flammable?)  
> ST: ((Some are, some aren't. She's not sure about the ones outside - it's a breed she doesn't recognise, which translates roughly to "not one of the commonly-summoned useful ones" because there are fucking dozens of breeds of the damn things in Hell, if not hundreds.))  
> Inks: (Hmm, dang)  
> Inks: (Alright, I'm going to try my stupid plan and see what happens, stunt incoming!)  
> ST: ((Want to move into rolling for ideas on tactics?))  
> ST: ((... or you could try something right now; that works too.))  
> 

"Okay-" She cast about for a source of water, and when she didn't find one, decided a temporary sacrifice was in order. To Bidaha, she had a very specific request that required her fleshweaving talents. "I need a pouch of flesh, something that we can just take and fill with water and then tie off tight. It has to be clear as well, clear as glass or near enough-"

Where would they get the water? From blood, of course. Inks donated her own to the cause, and in a short while they had improvised a water-lens out of a clean if somewhat grisly pouch of offered skin. The wooden door itself would become fuel- how to break it apart though, that was a challenge The actual fuel to start the fire- Inks sheared off a few inches of hair.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I had to break this into a montage stunt, because I might not have the Feats of Strength to beat through the door)  
> Inks: (Correction, I can spend 1wp and then roll my WP pool adding that result to my FoS table)  
> Inks: (the basic plan is 'light a fire with sunlight/solar anima, burn the webs, escape)  
> ST: ((... escape how?))  
> Inks: (Not sure yet, step one is getting rid of the webs. Feel free to make me roll)  
> Inks: (Like, the impression I have is that I am in the mountainside, right? There are 4-ish rooms. The cells (one space effectively), the shaft, Hinna's lab, and the store rooms)  
> Inks: (Somewhere, ostensibly, there is an Outside. I can dig out through the walls,or I can climb up or down the shaft. The anhules prevent the climbing, so getting rid of them is a step in the right direction?)  
> ST: ((Yes. Well, the storerooms are apparently a set of cupboard-spaces with doors set just off the main lab, but yes.))  
> Inks: (You have as ST every right to give me a 'bad idea' roll, it's not a problem. The important part is to not make me feel like I've wasted time or effort, or feel dumb for trying)  
> ST: ((Hmm. I will say that Inks isn't aware of how far down it might be - the Peak is three miles high, and the crater of Gem proper is only a mile above the desert sands. And there's no guarantee the bottom of this shaft is at crater-level - it may go down into the tunnels. Climbing down would be an endurance test, and a pretty harsh one. Also, setting fire to the webs would probably alert Hinna to what was going on, and she has at least one fly ogre that you'd have to climb down past.))  
> ST: ((Breaking the door is a 5-die feat of strength. However, Inks first has to _get_ to the door. Which is behind a set of iron bars. Bending those out of the way is going to be a 7-die feat of strength.))  
> ST: ((However, and here is the fun bit.))  
> Inks: (Oh, I was thinking the door was in front of the bars)  
> Inks: (Bidaha can squeeze between the bars, I imagine?)  
> ST: ((No - think of it as an average sized room with five cells made from bars set into the ceiling and floor in it, and an open space between the edge of the cells and the wall that has the door in it.))  
> ST: ((However. If Inks can boost her Str+Ath pool to 7 dice, she can bend the bars out of the way. And, here's the thing.))  
> ST: ((She has Crack-Mending Technique.))  
> ST: ((Which means she can then fix them. If she tests that now and keeps it to herself, she knows she has a way out of the cell and up to the door.))  
> ST: ((And then back in, without it being known she was out.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so if the room is 'open' but with five cages made of bars, what else is in it?)  
> Inks: (I understand the room dimensions, honestly, that's not a problem)  
> ST: ((Yeah, so, uh. I keep forgetting, but GoD!neomah writeup have "spitting fire" as an attack, so apparently that, uh, is a thing they can do? I guess they are descended from Ligier.))  
> ST: ((... they also have aconite-dusted hairpins, despite being bald. Lol.))  
> Inks: (Basically, Hinna is trying to get my Exaltation. She won't,but she'll keep trying and likely hurt inks in the process. Which is bad. Even if I get Chronicle back, fighting probably won't be my best bet. An obvious solution is to try and talk Hinna down, but I don't like that idea very much.)  
> ST: ((Well, Inks reckons she probably has at least a week or so as Hinna tries to force it out of her with Banishment drugs, simply because they're not quick to make and she'll have to keep making stronger ones until she realises it's just not working or, more likely, hits the limit of how strong she can make them.))  
> Inks: (Alright)  
> ST: ((So if you want to montage ANALYSIS-FU looking for weaknesses it's plausible.))  
> Inks: (Let's do that then)  
> Inks: (I write or you write?)  
> ST: ((Okay, roll me Per+Occult, Per+Craft and Per+Socialize for ASSESSIN' WEAKNESSES and LOOKIN' FOR FLAWS and READIN' INTENTIONS. Hinna will basically just be taking Inks out every day, shoving her in the lead chamber after making her drink another draught, and getting increasingly frustrated as they keep not working.))  
> 

* * *

Inks had to give the woman credit- she was diligent, and fastidious in her record keeping. Every failure, every 'botched concoction', her demons felt the vast majority of her irritation. For Inks, it was a daily opportunity. Hinna only seemed to have a small sampling of demons at her call- the anhules in the shaft, the fly-ogre, and those walking dogs. 

She noted the layout of the benches, the charged and uncharged solar crystals. The harnessing device itself- she considered what would happen if she fired her anima off while inside. Hinna for her part muttered in several languages, including a couple that Inks was fairly sure was a malfean dialect of Old Realm. 

The routine developed. Wake up, go in the chamber, purge the gunk after getting back into the cell and having a chat with Bidaha- she eventually asked what the book was, as well. Finally though, Inks had sketched out a rough plan on the floor with hair thin scrapes of her fingernail.  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 10 +4 "PerOccult"; Inks: [3, 10, 6, 9, 4, 5, 10, 2, 9, 9] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 10 +5 "PerCraft"; Inks: [6, 3, 7, 7, 6, 4, 5, 1, 6, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 8 +3 "PerSoc"; Inks: [7, 7, 10, 7, 9, 8, 4, 9] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... wow, on that last one.))  
> Inks: (I feel safe in assuming that Inks will at least use the 2m castemark mode each night to keep her motes up)  
> 

* * *

* * *

By the time she returned to her cell on the seventh day, Inks' mood had actually improved significantly since her first day. Bidaha had been right. Hinna really _hadn't_ been ready to grab her. 

Firstly, she was safer than she'd thought at first. From what she'd caught of Hinna's rants, the woman was unwilling to harm Inks too overtly for fear of the Anathema-demon deciding its host was in such a hopeless or damaged state that it might as well abandon it and find another - one that wasn't Hinna herself. While torture might be somewhere in her future, it probably wouldn't be until Hinna had exhausted her other options and theories. 

Not only that, but Maji was definitely looking for her. A few hours after she'd woken up, Vahti had apparently come to and babbled out an explanation, because her familiar's dim worry had flared into roaring, incandescent fury that had taken half the afternoon, Inks' own soothing thoughts and probably the intervention of several of her entourage to calm down. He'd been simmering ever since, and she'd felt him moving around below her. 

Pipera hadn't contacted her. Inks was fairly sure that the red stone and opal-lined windows were functioning as a ward against messages - in fact, she recalled that the demon lord Hinna seemed to have a pact with had a workshop much like this, and had probably helped make this one. But that meant that Hinna herself couldn't cast or sense the wards. 

Which was why she was unaware that there was a hole in them. The essence-chamber had felt too much blazing sunlight for too long during her purifications. The solar essence had eaten a hole through the demonic wards - and while it was sealed shut when the chamber was closed, there was a brief window when the door was open where Pipera might be able to talk to or hear Inks, if she was ready.

Hinna wasn't alone up here, either. There were three other humans Inks had seen - her husband, who'd made... use, of Bidaha several times and seemed jealous of his wife's occult successes in stealing the power of the sun, a brutish-but-dim son who had something blood-apeish about him, and a daughter who seemed to have been made with some of Bidaha's flesh as well as Hinna's. 

Apart from the possibilities open if she could grab a few tools from a workbench and smuggle them up to her cell to craft with - or perhaps fake an injury or illness with, since Hinna seemed to value her health - there was one more big opportunity that Inks had found out from Bidaha. Apparently, Hinna's pact with her patron demanded a supply of 'pure souls' - mortals of great or exceptional virtue. 

She had none to offer, and the new moon was approaching. If, as Inks suspected, she could no longer freely walk Gem to find new sacrifices, she would have some explaining to do to her patron - which would either result in her authority being stripped and her demons shucking their bindings, or an attempt at Beckoning the demon lord to bargain for more time. That, Inks thought, offered a _multitude_ of avenues for some occult sabotage if she was still here by then.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alrighty then)  
> ST: ((So, a nice spread of options there. : 3))  
> ST: ((Some short-term that might allow a quick escape or rescue, and a few longer-term, with the dangling option of a hilariously poetic revenge if she can delay until the new moon in three weeks or so.))  
> Inks: (I admit I have this tangential idea of improvising a ridiculous prayer roll to the Unconquered Sun and shaming/marking Hinna as a dire blasphemer in his name, fire and brimstone style.)  
> Inks: (Alright, what would I need to roll to lead Hinna on, to make her _Think_ it's working. I'd assume it would involve Inks's anima in the chamber)  
> ST: ((Yeah, if Inks cooperates in appropriately sulky fashion, she shouldn't have too many problems - she's aware that Hinna can't actually do what she's trying to do, so she can afford to stall. Though Hinna seems to have given up on the banishment draughts and mentioned something new planned for the next day.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. What's the pool?)  
> ST: ((To deceive her by playing along? Manipulation+Socialize - low Diff, since you're playing into her expectations. Hmm. And for stunting purposes; her new plan is to order Inks to flare her anima to bonfire-level in the chamber and try to leech off her stolen sun-power.))  
> ST: ((She has a variety of crystal setups she thinks might work to absorb it and channel it out, none of which are going to work quite like she wants because... well, the obvious.))  
> ST: ((She will also start demanding Inks tell her how she stole power from the sun in the first place, btw.))  
> 

* * *

Another day, another hare-brained scheme. Inks was amused to note that Hinna had stolen her bindi, so the woman hardly looked ruffled, despite the fact that she was at her wits end as far as alchemical approaches. She hadn't banished the walking dogs yet- but it was likely going to be soon if they were no good at handling essence-crystals. 

A crown of those such crystals kept in wire gold settings was forced onnto her head, framing the blank spot where her caste mark would shine. Before Hinna bid the ogre shut the chamber, she scowled and demanded how one such as Inks stole the Sun's power.

To that, Inks only shrugged. "I've not a clue, I got into a fight with my mother and she cut me open collarbone to belly over my tattoo. Then I was a Solar." 

Scowling, Hinna rolled her eyes and ordered the chamber shut, where Inks then surged her anima to full...

Two of the sunstones - these ones were glowstones treated with alchemy to catch sunlight - exploded. The rest... well, Hinna got several fully-infused sunstones out of the process over the course of an hour, but not much else. She seemed frustrated as she sent Inks back up to her cell, and Inks heard a scream and a smashing sound as the fly ogre nudged her onto the elevator.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so. Has Inks decided to take any approach? Start talking to one of the other mortals she's seen, try to filch something from the lab space, try to get in contact with Pipera somehow by prompting her - perhaps through Maji - to be listening just as Inks steps into the chamber?))  
> Inks: (I was aiming to delay for the demon, actually, but lets hedge our bets too)  
> Inks: (I never rolled for the 'lead her on' check)  
> Inks: (okay, man 2, soc 1, dang, channeling Conviction for 5, +2 stunt, +1 autosux, +1 dice;)  
> ST: ((... good point. Roll with a two-die stunt for your overall performance over the course of this week or so.))  
> Inks: !ex 11 +1; Inks: [8, 2, 2, 6, 4, 9, 5, 8, 6, 10, 6] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Yeah, she's pulling things off perfectly.))  
> 

* * *

As the days wore on, Inks carefully palmed a tool, some materials. One of the sunstone fragments held a fitful bit of charge-useful later on. A small metal probe could be useful later as well. Her dress was becoming more raggedy and caked with filth, but she didn't dare let it get to her. She kept her head up high, which only seemed to make Hinna angrier... and less likely to spot her. 

Lastly though, Maji, dear Maji was her lifeline. She could push her fear to him, and he would roar back in her mind, soundless and reassuring. Glorious tiger-prince. Through that tennuous link, for seconds at a time, she urged him to keep Pipera nearby...  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Inks is planning to wait for the new moon. Is she going to aim for Hinna being so frustrated and paranoid that she fails to talk her patron into an extension, or go the more direct route of trying to sabotage the Beckoning itself?))  
> ST: ((Which could have a variety of fun consequences that range from instantly killing Hinna to sucking her into the Endless Desert rather than drawing the demon out of it.))  
> Inks: (Hmmm... I like the idea of paranoia. Let's work on Hinna some more. Okay, so to do that, I need to get a message out to Pipera. What's the roll for that? I know HOW to do it, but I need to gauge success  
> ST: ((Oh dear. Do you want to make a montage of five-to-six sassy answers she gives to Hinna demanding how she stole sun-power from the gods?))  
> Inks: (Sure!)  
> ST: ((Oh god. Okay, hang on, Pipera first. Let's see... okay, let's roll Int+Survival to communicate to Maji via familiar-bond that he needs to get Pipera to listen for Inks at... hmm, simple concept, I think it's +2 Diff from effectively no shared language, so Diff 3. And then, heh. Roll me a dicepool of 4 on behalf of Maji to communicate it. : 3))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [4, 6, 7, 4, 8, 6, 3, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 4; [3, 10, 9, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Failure this time at communicating it to him. Try that roll a second time at a -1 penalty for her next attempt, but I think I'll say we've locked down his capability of getting Pipera to understand it, given that success.))  
> 

* * *

**Day Three**

"Explain to me the holy inversion scheme you used."

Inks huffed, scratching at her sweat-matted hair. "I guess I was just lucky?"

* * *

**Day Five**

Hinna threw a sheaf of papers into the fire and screamed, while the fly-ogre waited to shove Inks into the collector. Her caste mark was already glowing, and the teeming vermin around the demon were already dying in the face of her glow.

Inks squeaked through the gap in the doorway as it shut. "I suppose this should be a bad time to theorize that I became a Solar because of my personality?"

* * *

**Day Seven**

Hinna glared at her, her gold skin at a sadly beautiful contrast to the ugly look on her face. "I'll ask again- how do you steal the power of the sun- what ritual method?"

Inks shrugged. "Maybe I was given the power because I have a smashing ass and a lovely set of tits?"

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Feel free to stunt Inks sending Maji the mental prompt as she approaches the chamber, and what she whispers to Pipera in the moment before the door closes.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 "Spending a WP to negate the penalty"; Inks: [6, 2, 8, 5, 6, 9, 8, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
> ST: ((Success: Pipera is listening in the moment before the door closes (or opens). Inks can get a whispered sentence or two out each time she's put in or taken out, since now she can prompt Maji to signal her each time. And Pipera can send her words likewise.))  
> Inks: (Nice. Let's resolve the above montage against Hinna's mental state. Keep her frazzled and paranoid. what do I roll?)  
> Inks: (Also I feel safe in assuming that Inks is being given time to recover from the Strenuous Activity all this flaring is doing- it hasn't come up after all)  
> ST: ((Yup. Cha+Presence to frustrate, with a +3 tool bonus of "WHY WON'T MY THEORIES WORK"))  
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [4, 9, 2, 2, 1, 6, 9, 3, 10, 8, 3, 7, 3, 8, 7, 4, 8] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> 

Inks' seventh facetious response marked the first time Hinna's composure broke in front of her prisoner. With a furious scream, she grabbed a beaker from the nearest table and hurled it at Inks' head - missing by almost a foot to instead glance off the lead chamber.

"You don't _know!_ " she shrieked. "Do you?! You've... you've been through so many hosts you actually think you're human! You've _forgotten_ how you did it!" 

She didn't so much fall silent as appear to go somewhere beyond speech, into a bubbling pit of frustration where verbal language dissolved into hissing and twitching fingers that clawed at the air. It took her two or three tries and several gestures at her neomah-like daughter to convey that Inks was done for the day. Apparently Hinna didn't trust herself not to push Inks off the elevator if she accompanied her back up to the cell.

Bidaha gave the young woman a soulful, disappointed look as Inks was being roughly pushed back behind iron bars, and the girl shifted uncomfortably. 

"You've been practicing again," the neomah said. "Does she know?" 

Her quite-possibly-daughter hesitated a moment, before shaking her head as the ogre ducked out through the door. Bidaha hummed thoughtfully as it slammed closed and the racket of the elevator began to move downwards again.

"I'm starting to worry now," she confessed.

"About what?" Inks exhaled and slumped on the bed, using a ripped part of her skirt as a threadbare pillow.

"Siyma." For once, Bidaha doesn't seem eager at the prospect of doling out information hint by hint. She sounded... glum. "She can weave flesh like I can, but _she_ doesn't approve of it. And Siyma is so very stubborn. As sure in her convictions as you or I." She pauses. "She's a pure soul. Potentially." 

The risk inherent in that goes unsaid.

Inks: "I see..." Mulling on what to do about that, Inks could only wait for the next opportunity to turn the screws to Hinna.

* * *

As the week passed, Inks started to carefully whisper messages at the appointed time, negotiated between Maji and Pipera. "I'm somewhere in Rankar Peak- high above. Have the Despot lean on Hinna, his assayer. Lean hard. Paranoid!" Terse and urgent, she pressed her lips shut when Hinna glanced her way.

When she finally was released that day, She slumped against the side of the extractor and huffed. "So I think you're confused. You think that I'm the power, wearing a person-suit. It's a fine theory, but it's hardly one you can prove. I'm not even thirty years old."

"So I guess, all I can say is that when it came down to it, I was worthy. I did something or _had_ to do something... and there I was, glowing gold. She pulled the front of her dress open, where there wasn't even a hint of a scar. "Hard to believe, but it's true as far as I know it."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the plan here is to put Hinna in a vice. Despot on one side, Inks on the other, and the demon's pact sloooowly closing in)  
> ST: ((Is she trying to pour on more stress and uncertainty so that the Beckoning and/or bargaining goes awry, or making an honest effort to convince her?))  
> Inks: (Using honest truth to do the former. Ebon Dragon would approve)  
> ST: ((Lol. Hmm. Okay. So, is Inks going to make any backup plans? She's filched a few tools - she could try to use them to subtly sabotage the ritual circle, though doing so under Hinna's nose would be very tricky. She could try to flip Siyma using the threat of her mother and Bidaha's help - or her husband by promising to give him the powers of the sun if she brings down his wife, etc. She could fake an illness to add _another_ time pressure. Etc. Also hang on, stuntin'.))  
> 

The next day - the third week, as Inks has tracked it - brings both good and bad news. The good news is a whisper from Pipera as Maji's silent roar echoes in her mind. "Hinna vanished with you. Her group claim you took her. Despot has warrants out on both of you for questioning. She hasn't been seen since."

ST: That, along with the slow shift from relatively fresh, perishable food to more long-lasting staples, probably meant that Hinna's ability to get things from Gem with the help of whatever cult she had beyond her immediate family was indeed being mercilessly squeezed. And it was a cult. Inks recognized this sort of thinking; this devotion to the idea of stealing power from the sun as the tales said the Anathema had. That was definitely cult-thinking. 

The bad news was Hinna's newest measure: starvation. Inks' rations were being cut back to almost nothing to try and weaken the demon's hold on its host and make it easier to drain the power out of her - and just two days in she was already feeling the bite of hunger.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I can go sta+res/2 days without food, and then after that it's -1 penalty for each additional day.)  
> ST: ((What does that translate to?))  
> Inks: (She's fine for 2 days, and then on the 3rd day she takes -1, -1 for every day after)  
> ST: ((Hah, spot-on in my stunt, then.))  
> Inks: (...when she takes -4 penalty, she dies of starvation)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Hinna's feeding her enough that she won't starve to death.))  
> ST: ((But no more. She's aiming for that penalty.))  
> Inks: (The rules actually do state that reduced rations can slow the starvation penalty rate too, so that works)  
> Inks: (Okay, so I'm aiming to sabotage the ritual circle myself, is it in the workshop, how is this going to work?)  
> ST: ((Right. It's in the workshop. Inks has a few ways she can try this. The riskiest is to try and do it right under Hinna's nose by staging a fall or something and scratching at it - it's carved into the workshop floor - with a smuggled tool. Or she can try to bend the bars back, pick the door lock, distract the anuhles somehow, climb down, pick the lab door lock and do it while Hinna's asleep. Or she can try to flip someone - probably the husband or daughter - to do it for her. Or even try and wrangle Bidaha being allowed back into the lab somehow so she can do it.))  
> Inks: (I'm gonna do it under Hinna's nose, lemme polish up my stunt)  
> ST: ((How much xp do you have atm, btw?))  
> Inks: (5mortal, 32 enlightened, 3 sorcerous)  
> ST: ((If you want to fast-buy a Charm or bump up an Ability to help you out, you're free to count this captivity as training time for a variety of appropriate things.))  
> Inks: (yeah, it's BEEN long enough)  
> Inks: (Do you have any suggestions?)  
> Inks: (My stunt is ready at least)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Well, I'm willing to let you go into -1mxp debt, which would let you either get 2 dots of Resistance or a 3-dot Style that would be very appropriate and also quite helpful for "enduring hardship" in the face of hunger and drugs and so on. And which wouldn't set you back on E4.))  
> ST: ((... technically, Resistance 2 is better there because it translates to 4 dice when you're using Excellencies.))  
> Inks: (Yeah, let's do Resistance, adding 2 dots  
> ST: ((Which brings her up to Resistence 3. Nice.))  
> ST: ((Inks has TOUGHENED UP.))  
> 

* * *

It was the height of hubris to think thaumaturgy weak or useless, especially in the face of sorcery or the powers of the Exalted. What Inks could do, determined thaumaturges could do nearly as well, with costs defrayed over weeks, months or years instead of immediate, will-shaping effort.

The summoning circle was a masterwork, something Inks was loathe to damage despite it being so... impure and connected to a fairly reprehensible sounding being. At the same time, it was the crux of her trap. The demon craved purity, ideal forms and shapes, virtue beyond virtue.

Fortunate then, that Hinna had been starving her. It was hard to look sick as an Exalt, but Inks gathered dust from her cell and rubbed at her eyes until the were red and puffy. She had Bidaha touch up her lips, making them look chapped and dry. The real trick though, was the powdered sunstone dust coating her hands. 

She'd been coughing all the way down to the lab, careful not to shed the payload before it was time. She'd seen the circle dozens of times now, and knew that it's balance was tenuous. Improvising a great hacking fit, she brought her hands up to her mouth and coughed, spraying a hopefully invisible cloud of dust that would settle upon the diagram...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Ooooo. Nice. Heh. Okay, she spent time planning this out in detail, so let's go with... Int+Larceny to pull it off. Diff 4 for doing it _right under Hinna's nose_ ; 3-dot stunt for sheer audacity.))  
> Inks: (Pff, I only have one dot of larceny, but okay)  
> Inks: (int 5, larc 1, +3 stunt, gonna go 1st excellency and my last conviction channel)  
> Inks: (...that's gonna be twenty dice. Disgonnabegud)  
> Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [3, 2, 2, 3, 8, 5, 9, 1, 10, 9, 7, 1, 7, 6, 1, 7, 10, 8, 5, 5] was rolled for 11 successes.  
> 

It went _perfectly_ ; exactly as Inks had planned. Hinna was so distractable at this point that she even risked trying it again - twice over the course of the next week. Hinna had, as the fourth week of Inks' captivity drew in, finally crossed the line of avoiding harm, as well as any thought of subtlety.

Her son's fists acted as incentive for Inks to answer her demands, and while Bidaha tried her best to soothe the bruises through the bars, Inks _ached_. But that only made it more convincing when she stumbled and fell, sprawling across the surface, coughing out another cloud of dust - and carefully chipping out two tiny pieces of stone with a crudely fashioned chisel to alter the meaning of a pair of carefully chosen runes; perverting the purity of the circle further.

Maji and Pipera were there for her, and from Pipera's occasional whispers - though now her time in the chamber was spent being blasted by moonlight caught in glowstones in the hopes of dislodging the sun-power within her - they were getting closer to finding her as well. Pipera's investigations had tracked down several members of the cult Hinna was leading - and Tatters had acted as a knife to find others through interrogating ghosts. Pipera was non-specific as to whose.

Finally, the night Inks had been waiting for arrived. The night of the new moon. She was present in the lab for it - she suspected as a demonstration of what Hinna had to offer, given a few more weeks. As the woman was not stupid, the fly ogre and two anuhles stood guard with orders to hurt her should she try in any way to disrupt the Beckoning. 

Little did Hinna know, her disruption was already done.

Sore, aching- her teeth were bloody from a recent backhanded slap. She waited until Hinna had started the ritual, before speaking. "Hey. That secret you wanted to know. The truth you were looking for?" 

The magic was building now in the chamber, and her guards bristled, but they did not have orders. Not yet. Inks's caste mark shone brightly on her brow, sudden and warmin the darkness of the new moon. "It's pretty simple really."

"It is because you weren't Chosen." Inks crossed her arms over her chest, chin stuck out and glare fierce. "And that I am Exalted."

Hinna bared her teeth and hissed, then spread her arms dramatically. Her own embossed caste mark began to glow - not gold, but a wavering opalescent hue. "Come, assayer!" she called. "Come, alchemist! Come, my lady; assayer of men, alchemist of souls! Come to your temple, your workshop-in-effigy! Come to your servant, your pact-holder, your ally! Come to claim the power of the Anathema and the light of the traitor sun! Enter this world as I hold the gates open, as I mark the door, as I gift you passage! Come, Tereki! _Come!_ "  
  


>   
> ST: ((So. I worked out the rules for this. Hinna gets to roll her whole full dicepool; the entire thing that she's throwing into this with everything she's got.))  
> ST: ((But Inks has done horrible, horrible things to her summoning circle.))  
> ST: ((So what would normally be successes (7-8-9-10s) are botches (1s), and vice versa.))  
> Inks: (I am beside myself with anticipation)  
> ST: !ex 17; ST: [10, 10, 8, 9, 6, 2, 7, 2, 9, 4, 3, 6, 8, 5, 2, 5, 5] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> ST: ((... /ouch/.))  
> ST: ((That is just barely shy of literally the worst outcome she could have gotten.))  
> ST: ((Unfortunately, the second-worst is still pretty bad.))  
> 

And then something went wrong. The wavering rent into the Endless Desert formed - and flickered, and warped. Screams rent the air where it had been torn open. The circle lit up in opal light, and a crack ripped through it, straight from one chipped-out flaw to the other across the sigil's full width.

For a split second, the tear expanded - suddenly, violently and viciously; streaming out in every direction save directly towards Inks and her gold-burning caste mark.

Inks caught a split-second glimpse of Hinna, her eyes wide with hatred and terror and sudden, horrible _comprehension_ , standing on silver sand that was already whipping up around her as a grey-robed figure approached. 

And then the rent in the world snapped closed like a set of monstrous jaws, and her scream of denial was lost. The detonation threw Inks - and both spiders, and the fly ogre - clear across the room and into one of the storeroom doors, which buckled from the impact.

Coughing, sputtering and sore, Inks heaved herself upright- her shoes had been broken in the fall. She kicked them off with a wince, whipping her hand back as it pressed into the squishy, skinless flesh of the fly ogre. She cast about, taking in the scene as the dust began to clear. Was it her- was it _here?_

Inks: (1m on Call The Blade, if there is a clear path to her hand and it's within 30 yards, can Inks call Chroncile?)  
ST: ((She can! It's in the storeroom. The door is already not very healthy from being hit very hard by a fly ogre, and is about to get even less so.))

The blade ripped through the door with a tortured squeal of broken wood and landed in one hand, then the other. She exhaled, armed and ready. She looked back at the ruined summoning circle, stalking around to give herself room away from the demon spiders and insect-covered hulk.  
  


>   
> ST: ((I will note that Chronicle is your Anchor for Banishment.))  
> Inks: (Good point, but strictly speaking, Emerald Circle only works on single demons at a time)  
> ST: ((Yeah, but that would let her get rid of the fly ogre and be left with two spiders that are only about as big as largeish dogs, instead of two metres at the shoulder.))  
> 

Raising her weapon, Inks called upon the great powers she had learned, the binding pacts that were anchored in the flesh and soul of the demon city. Chronicle thrummed with power as her anima lit up to full, and in one instant burst, launched a dire beam of banishing light towards the ogre!

>   
> ST: ((... yeah, it's still dazed from the door, and with Inks flaring as well I'm not even gonna bother rolling for it.))  
> Inks: (Okay, banishment is one of those 'I go first then cool down for 2 action spells; I roll ess+WP against the demon's, with some scaling WP)  
> ST: ((I'd normally roll it, but looking at the relative essence and willpower pools on top of its penalties... oh, hmm.))  
> ST: ((Inks has a -3 from hunger, doesn't she?))  
> Inks: (Scaling mote investment- mind, and she does yes)  
> Inks: (but WP 10)  
> Inks: (plus stunt)  
> ST: ((Okay, let's roll this. The demon is E2, WP 4 and has a -2 from dazedness and also holy shit scary sunlight pain argh help. So, uh. 4 dice.))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [4, 2, 6, 1, 7, 10, 3, 8, 9, 7, 6, 1] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [8, 4, 9, 7] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (Ban-ished!)  
> 

Another - much briefer - rent into Cecelyne was opened, and summarily closed again as a dazed and wounded fly ogre hurtled through; borne on crashing golden light.

>   
> Inks: (So now Inks has two actions to cool off, but she cannot take any reflexive action, but her anima is at full blast so that means she takes off whatever HLs of damage)  
> ST: ((Allow me a moment...))  
> ST: !ex 3; ST: [3, 1, 5] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: The anuhles took one look at the blazing, sun-wreathed, Chronicle-armed, proudly-standing Inks and ran screaming for the door to the volcano shaft.  
> ST: ((Valor check faaaaaiiiiiiled))  
> Inks: (dohohoho, good job. Are all the binding wards against scrying gone now that the demon pact is broken?)  
> ST: ((Not entirely, but... well, the explosion pretty intensively shattered them in this room.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Okay, I'm going to just montage what I think will happen as part of the session wrap-up, and you can add in whatever you want)  
> ST: ((Sure thing.))  
> ST: ((I assume you're rescuing/recruiting Bidaha? What about her daughter?))  
> Inks: (I'm gonna cover that)  
> ST: ((Cool cool))  
> 

Jamming her sword tip first into the floor, Inks leaned on it with a huff, silently prodding Maji to in turn prod her executive assistant. "Pipera, Hinna's taking a vacation to more hellish climes, I could use a pickup...."

* * *

Slowly, inexorably, the whole tangled mess was unfurled. Hinna- not merely a sorcerer but infernalist. Leader of a cult to a Demon Prince of Hell, of the Second Circle. Promises of power and hellish pacts to things- well, Inks did not believe that demons were inherently bad, but there were as many monsters as there were useful and personable breeds. 

Setting the philosophy of demonology aside, Inks focused on her recovery. A few hearty meals and long soaks in her baths took the edge off, while Pipera and Tatters, with the Despot's admittedly grudging support carefully captured some of the cult and confiscated Hinna's lab. When she was rested, Inks returned to banish whatever demons had remained, or forced them deeper into the darkness and sealed the tunnel behind them.

Hinna's husband and son were grudgingly surrendered to the Despot's tender mercies- Inks had to speak up on behalf of mercy, but she also was not going to be the one to decide their final fate either. Bidaha, the once-allied neomah, was an easy concession to secure along with Simya- citing the need to address any matters medical and occult.

Finally though, the tolls were tallied, and Inks was richer in experience if not in occult knowledge.

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((So. Assuming she banished all the anuhles, the Despot has allowed Inks to claim the workshop if she wants it. And that's not actually a half bad thing, because it's high up the mountain, has windows to get direct brilliant sunlight that she can enlarge, and is super-secure. It's also got a _wealth_ of alchemical and assayer's gear (some of which admittedly needs fixing from being lightly exploded), a great big essence-containment chamber (with perhaps some bad memories attached) and a metric _shitload_ of sunstones.))  
> ST: ((Which may come in handy when Inks moves on El Galabi.))  
> Inks: (I think I will claim it, yes)  
> ST: ((Hinna was a member of the 125 Golden Sin Brotherhood (https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/posts/9590830/), and in Inks' absence had done a _fairly thorough_ job of rooting out Hinna's cult - at least the ones Tatters didn't find via the ghosts of their victims first.))  
> ST: ((https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-hLM-Vwjj8hBQAQrjGotYIglKB-T9P4r64QyzinCT1Y/pub#h.u52rmdvg5bfc))  
> ST: ((As a side-note; Pesala technically contributed - she was the one who translated Maji's initial promptings to Pipera that she should listen for Inks.))  
> ST: ((And, hmm. Does Inks ever make a full examination of Bidaha?))  
> ST: ((Or do you want to leave that for later?))  
> Inks: (Let's do it now, while we're thinking about it)  
> Inks: (I assume FDT would give the 'need more info' return, so what would I have to do/roll to get more info?)  
> ST: ((Int+Occult, long examination and questioning.))  
> Inks: !ex 18; Inks: [2, 10, 10, 9, 9, 1, 7, 5, 6, 9, 2, 8, 1, 8, 10, 7, 7, 1] was rolled for 14 successes.  
> 

* * *

"It's been too long since I raised my tower," had been Bidaha's confession in the cell next to Inks. But not until after Hinna's defeat had she admitted the rest. "It hurt," she explained once they were back at the manner. "Not at first, but after a month or so - longer than I'd ever gone without expelling it before - it started to hurt. It hurt worse and worse and worse - it's part of why she locked me up." 

Even now she refused to actually say the name of the woman who'd Beckoned, worked with and then imprisoned her. "And then the pain waned. By the time you arrived, it was nearly gone. I haven't felt it at all in two weeks or more now. And... and I was worried that..."

Inks could read the unspoken dread. She was worried that she'd lost her tower entirely... and it looked like that was indeed what had happened. Inks had taken her to the neomah-bordello and watched - and taken notes - as she'd tried, for almost an hour, to expel the tower. It hadn't come.

She was stronger than the other neomah, though, and more individual. Her liking for tempting people with knowledge rather than flesh was only growing stronger, and Inks had already had to intervene to stop her from reeling Pesala in with lessons.

She suspected some sort of transformation was beginning within Bidaha - not one that had yet tipped past the critical runaway point, but one that was inexorable and advancing ever closer. Some growth in power that would leave her more - and yet other - than the rest of her breed; as different as a Greater Elemental was to the flame duck or thunderbird from which it had grown.  
  


>   
> Inks: (fascinating; I do find it novel that you allow spirits to have things go Wrong. Most of the time people present or think of spirits as these incorruptible static 'cutouts')  
> ST: ((^_^))  
> ST: ((Inks thinks it's sort of shifted into boosting her "intellectual temptation" side, but it may well be that she started gaining that desire as an alternative outlet after her tower started to break down inside her))  
> Inks: (Alright I got something I want to close the session on)  
> 

Hours, days of cleanup crept on, until at long last, everything was _mostly finished_. No more crisies, nothing else that demanded Inks's attention- nothing she could look at and decide 'I cannot afford to let someone else handle this'.

Secure in that knowledge, she made a heavy, hearty dinner full of comfort foods both from Nexus and some of the local dishes- Ajjim was a fine help in that regard. The meal was quiet, with her allies and housemates present. The dishes were wisked away by attentive staff, eager and happy that their employer was back where she belonged.   
Inks: It was after that dinner that Inks found the biggest, fluffiest pile of cushions she had and dragged both Maji and Vahti into the plush nest for a long, needed cuddle.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Session close there?)  
> ST: ((Session close there. ^_^))  
> Inks: Whew. Lots of fun!  
> ST: 5xp+3xp reward for awesome RP+2mxp+3 Sxp for awesome sorcery use.  
> Inks: I admit there was a pacing issue in the first half, but we hit our stride and carried on  
> ST: Hee.  
> ST: ^_^  
> 


	25. Session 25: Elmei Piercing Sun and the Coxati Expedition

  
  


>   
> ST: ((We're stepping back for a moment, so roll me Perception+Socialize for how much Inks picks up on during the montage of initial-sorting-things-out.))  
> Inks: (Lesse, per 5, soc 1, +6 excellency)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [5, 5, 9, 6, 9, 5, 4, 7, 7, 5, 9, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

  
  


* * *

The immediate crises were over. The initial fallout had been, if not dealt with, then at at least triaged. The various aches and pains were more or less gone.

There were also a number of very fluffy cushions on top of Inks' face, a giant furry sweltering source of heat to one side and a smaller and curvier but no colder source of heat to the other side, but at least she knew how those had got there.

So, it was about time to deal with the less-critical things that had sprung up. Maji was, obviously, not going to let her out of his sight for the next year or so. From what she'd picked up, Vahti was blaming herself harshly for Inks' capture, and would probably be equally clingy.

Pipera seemed to have made it through the ordeal without any breakdowns; but Inks expected no less of her composure. Carsa was more of a ball of nerves than usual, and had burst into tears on Inks' return. Pesala... she hadn't actually seen Pesala yet.

And she'd need to take a closer look at what her businesses and properties had been doing in her absence. No disasters had struck, or Pipera would have told her - but that didn't mean her brand hadn't taken a knock.

Not exactly groaning, Inks let out a sound of profound lethargy and discontent- she squirmed, sending the nest of cushions spilling out over her front while Vahti let out a wordless complaint, and Maji rumbled on her other side. "Work is never done..." She made a few inquiries of her staff (reassuring Carsa along the way) and slipped out for a therapeutic bath.  
  


>   
> ST: ((roll Per+Awa, if you're bathing in the early morning))  
> Inks: (Sure)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [7, 7, 10, 7, 10, 5, 4, 9, 2, 7, 4, 6] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> ST: ((... wow.))  
> Inks: (gimme dose details)  
> 

  
  


* * *

The baths were, as ever, cool and luxurious; soothing and peaceful. Leaning back against the rocks with a sigh, Inks listened to the soft trickle of the water, the lazy rumble of Maji's purrs, the skittering sound on the obelisk behind her... wait.

Inks blinked, turning in one fluid move- "Aha!"

Nothing. The obelisk sat there, water trickling gently down its...

Inks' eyes narrowed, then widened as she performed a particular twist of attention. And, hah, yes. There was her culprit. The little form of a minor spirit - no taller than her hand - drawing back into one of the polished fissures in the pillar's surface.

"Oh!" She smiled broadly, inordinately pleased with the sight. "It's alright- feel free to join me." She turned up the charm to a proper dazzle, endearing and alluring starting from her head all the way down to her toes. She pat a flat stone nearby, urging the little spirit to come closer, sit with her.

The little spirit peeked its head out through the trickle of water, carefully surveyed the bathhouse, then emerged. It was female; wore a simple robe that gleamed the same infinitely-deep black as the jade, and water trickled down from long hair twisted up in a towel.

"You're the bathmistress?" the minor goddess asked suspiciously. "The one who made this place?"

"I did!" She sank deeper into the water, putting herself more on the spirit's eye-level. "My name is Inks- what's your name?"

Stepping down onto the stone, the goddess drew herself up. Slightly up. "By command from the Cerulean Lute itself, I; Gloria Riverstone, have been assigned to manage your baths and report on their use to records of Heaven," she declared self-importantly.

Relaxing slightly, she peered around. "It's not as good as my first bathhouse," she added in a tone that was half mournful, half haughty. "But I suppose it will do." Despite the snobbery, she observed her new domain with a mixture of hunger and wonder.

Inks suppressed the urge to squeal, but flashed another bright, quick smile. "I'm flattered Heaven thinks so highly of me, to specifically assign someone to my baths." She paused, cocking her head to one side. "If you don't mind me asking, what was your first bathhouse?"

Gloria looked sad. "I don't remember very much about it," she confessed. "It was grand! And huge!" She spread her arms - which were each about the length of Inks' little finger - as wide as they would go. "I was stronger back then. And bigger. As big as you. My baths were beautiful and luxurious and clean! People came from miles and miles away to bathe in them! They knew the name of my bathhouse even in other cities..."

She trailed off, looking lost. "But then the sickness. Everybody died. Nobody came to cleanse themselves. The dead piled up in the streets outside and rotted - I kept my bathhouse clean, but outside was dirty and foul. I tended the baths until they ran dry, and I kept the records, and I waited..."

Now she scowled. "And then people came! Dirty horrible people! They brought the dirt into my bathhouse! They sullied its floors and tore out the... tore out... tore out things! And then when they left, the desert came and ate the city, and my bathhouse, and I was just Gloria. Until an order came from Heaven to come here, and be the bathmistress for you."

Inks nodded, sitting upright to put a hand on her chest. "Well, I hope to make one of the greatest bathhouses ever, starting with this one, and I would be honored if you would be the bathmistress. If you need anything from me- an offering or shrine, I'd be more than happy to make one."

Gloria considered this. "I think I would like a shrine," she decided. "I had a shrine before." She bowed, somehow not dislodging the intricately wrapped towel that her hair was held up in. "Construct a shrine to me at the base of the obelisk, and I will tend to your baths - and keep the dirt and sickness from getting in!"

* * *

That sounded like the perfect project to get back into the swing of things. Rising smoothly, she bid the little goddess a good morning and moved with purpose. Pipera was awake, so it was a small matter to arrange for the purchase of building supplies and a reputable thaumaturge to bless the materials.

From there she devised a special varnish, mixed with the waters of the bath itself to harden the wood against moisture and similar. Scraps of gold from some other projects were carefully worked into sigils of purity and invocations of Venus that Inks recalled from analyzing her artifact bindi, to which she bound in a central scheme to Gloria Riverstone's name and title of Bathmistress. The shrine itself was a handsome roofed box-

with a handsome tiled roof and expertly carved pillars, scaled for a spirit of Gloria's size, with a matching altar that reflected and focused the architecture into an auspicious point- when one looked at the shrine, eyes would be drawn to the altar itself. So fashioned, Inks placed the shrine with no small amount of ceremony

A great deal of her staff and house guests had turned out to see what their employer-host was up to; Pesala fidgeted most adorably, tugging at her father's paw with stifled questions. Finally, Inks declared the shrine complete, and requested that any who use the baths, including herself, pay respects to its least god. "As is only proper." She smiled.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Dex+(lower of Craft and Occult) for the construction.))  
> Inks: (dex 2 Occult 3, +2 autosux 2nd excellency, +1wp)  
> Inks: !ex 5 +3; Inks: [1, 2, 7, 4, 1] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Wow, glad I did that)  
> ST: ((yikes))  
> ST: ((yeah, definitely reason to be glad))  
> 

  
  
A wafting cloud of steam from the heated section of the baths blew across the entrance to the shrine; propelled by a sudden breeze, and for a moment both Inks and all those watching caught a glimpse of a smiling Gloria at the entrance.

So that was a positive - her baths had a resident goddess. A little more worrying was the fidgeting of Pesala, who was staying away from Inks and whose adorable pouting had a sullen edge that worried Inks a little. A quiet inquiry to Ajjim revealed that the little girl hadn't taken her disappearance well - and in fact had started getting into fights with other children; something that had taken Ajjim a while to even notice.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Continuation from your initial socialize roll - Pesala is avoiding Inks as best a five-year old can and acting out.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, she was next, actually; Also pause, I forgot to add a +2 stunt to my roll)  
> Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [9, 3] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Not a big change, but worth noting)  
> ST: ((Good catch. Gloria is a very happy goddess.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Having handled the shrine and then breakfast, Inks considered her immediate to-do list. Carsa was handling the property, Pipera the business. She'd have to talk to the Despot very soon... After the dishes had been cleaned up, Inks sought out Ajjim for a quiet word. After the pleasantries, Inks gave the man a wry look. "Pesala's upset, yes?"

He sighed, sinking into a chair and rubbing his ears. "Her mother... the circumstances weren't the same, but to Pesala they would seem to be. One day you went out as normal and never came back. I noticed she'd become withdrawn and was speaking less, but I didn't catch the fights until the week before you returned." His teeth bare in a disturbing grimace. "It is easiest to spot children who have been fighting from their bruises, you see. 

And she has not been returning with any."

Inks blinked. "So she's winning?" She didn't know why she latched on to that first, but there it was. Focusing back on Ajjim, she nodded. "I'd like to talk to her, unless you think I shouldn't?"

Ajjim considered. "Lady Inks, perhaps you forget. My forefather is no tiger-spirit; nor a divine beast. He is a god of war. Weapons are deft in our grasp, even if we are untrained in their use. The nature of fire comes naturally to us, and our fires drive us further than mortal men. My mother could command flames to do her bidding." He shook his head. "There is a reason I can walk alone in the desert and return unharmed. Speak with her, please, but don't imagine the children she is fighting had the upper hand."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, mechanically - this is stuff Ajjim knows in fluff terms - his line have several perks from their divine blood. They ignore the -2 untrained penalty to actions associated with war or battle. They can self-train in Fire-associated combat or War styles, and treat them as Favoured. And they have access to a minor Excellency for such Styles that lets them add up to (Style rating) dice while using them.))  
> ST: ((They're a lot less powerful than Maji, but compared to the average five-to-ten year old, Pesala is a tiny, terrifying monster.))  
> Inks: (Very nice/interesting. I had not expected them to be that powerful)  
> 

  
  
Inks nodded, and considered a few of her other ideas and plans in light of that. "Thank you- let me or Carsa know if you or your daughter need anything- I'm going to try and talk to Pesala now."

Having said that, it was easier said than done... unless you had a tiger-god grandson as your best friend and bodyguard. "Maji, you wouldn't happen to know where Pesala is?" The tiger did not, immediately, but it was short work to find the young girl out in the streets of Gem, her niqab haphazardly wrapped around her head and ears... And she was indeed not only fighting, but winning.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Pesala has, while Inks has been missing, taught herself 2 dots of Burning Fists Style. You can probably guess the general gist of what it looks like from the name.))  
> ST: ((Unarmed style that's very hot-blooded and metaphorically fiery.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Inks and Maji did not so much approach as loom over the jeering gaggle of young people, but fortunately Inks was a beauty enough to soften Maji's presence, and children either feared the great tiger, or believed him the most amazing thing ever. Both were equally true and reactions Maji appreciated. The fight itself ended when Inks cleared her throat, just in time to see Pesala lay out a boy three years older than her with a straight right to the jaw.

The young tigergirl was facing away from her - though, Inks ruefully admitted, Ajjim had pointed out to her that "tigergirl" was the wrong word. The five-year old _warblooded_ girl was facing away, and so managed a few seconds of surprisingly effective posturing at her opponents before being gently lifted up by the scruff of the neck in huge jaws.

Inks recalled - not quite with guilt, but with a hint of awkwardness - that she'd been the one who'd taught Pesala how to project and display feeling and keep her senses sharp. Those had, uh. Probably helped her in intimidation and fights, respectively.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Pesala is +2 Presence and +2 Perception due to Inks' training, lawl.))  
> Inks: (And +2 int)  
> ST: ((Yes, but that's generally less helpful in street brawls.))  
> 

  
  
Swinging round to try and get herself loose again - and this time, Inks noted, she was having a lot more success at connecting with Maji than when they'd first met - Pesala let out a stream of language that had most definitely been picked up from fighting street kids as Inks and Maji removed her to a more private location. Once set down and with her niqab once again pulled off, she sullenly glared at the both of them.

* * *

The private location turned out to be a daytime tavern with the good sense to have very private, enclosed booths. Her reputation and Familiar made discretion difficult, but she paid a double handful of silver dinar for the courtesy. With their food on the way and privacy reasonably assured, Inks sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got captured- pulled away for a month, for making stupid mistakes. I'm sorry for making you worry."

Pesala kicked her legs and refused to meet Inks' eye. "Mami was always sorry when she and Papi had to go off on searches together," she muttered. "She always promised she'd be back soon, too, and made me promise to be good for our neighbours. But she broke her side of the promise!" Her voice rose angrily, and her hair flounced. "She didn't come back! Only Papi did, and he was hurt and really sad and he said she was gone and everything got worse!"

She sniffed. "And it was better when we started living with you, but if you're gonna go away too then I'm not gonna behave and I'm not gonna care about you or it'll hurt more!"

Inks rocked back on her metaphorical heels. How was she going to explain this to a child? She fell silent for a moment, thinking.

"It's not wrong for you to think that, to feel that way. Sometimes thinks happen that we can't control, bad luck, someone who has it in for you, who knows..." She trailed off, thinking. "I'm better off than a lot of people already. I'm like the Dragonblooded, but I was chosen by the Sun, not the Dragons, and you know the Sun is one of the greatest gods there is."

"But I was overconfident. I let my pride blind me and Hinna caught me for it. She got lucky too, but that doesn't change the fact that I was the one who got caught." She was rambling now, Inks was sure of it.

"If not for you and Maji, I might not have gotten out at all, so I very much owe you my health if not my life, Pesala." Inks paused again, humming. "I want to make it better, for all of us to not live in fear. I know Vahti is really up in arms about this... Anyway."

"I'd like you to stop fighting. You're a clever girl, so I think you'd believe me- it's not safe for you or the kids you're fighting. If you want to throw a punch, I'd be more than happy to let you take a swing at me. I might as well learn something! But, what I'm worried about is- what happens when you pick a fight with someone you shouldn't?"

"I mean, what if you punch the child of a head of House, or one of the Despot's slaves? What if you take a swing at someone better than you- and then Ajjim and I are the ones hurt by you being taken from us? Care goes both ways." She sighed then, slumping back in her seat. "I'm sorry, Pesala, but I want to make it better."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Cha+Pres to convince her.))  
> Inks: (Cha 2, Pres 4, +6 excellency, +3 compassion dice, +2 stunt?)  
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [5, 8, 7, 10, 4, 1, 8, 4, 10, 8, 5, 9, 2, 8, 1, 7, 5] was rolled for 11 successes.  
> 

  
  
Pesala pouted. "They always start it," she grumbled. But Inks could see that the comment about Ajjim being hurt should she get in over her head had struck home. "I guess... it's getting boring anyway. They're starting to back down instead'f trying to hit me, and they don't call me names when they see my ears if they think I can hear them." Her expression was a study in 'I'm not doing this because you're asking; I just decided it of my own initiative for my own reasons' that any cat would be proud of.

It would still take some time before she fully trusted Inks not to leave her, Inks judged. But she could work on that slowly and safely, as long as Pesala was behaving again.

* * *

With that matter addressed for the moment, Inks and Pesala made their way back home. From there Inks sought out Pipera for an update on the businesses, and any pressing to-dos she was missing. "I'm aiming to asses Hinna's lab and claim it as part of compensation, which means I need to at least talk to the Despot about the trial of Hinna's family...." She hummed.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Int+Bur for analysis-fu.))  
> ST: ((+1 assistant bonus from Pipera))  
> 

  
  
"Oh right, Bidaha- have we set up a room for her? We still need to arrange a meeting with Trasti Gion as well. Va-THAIE!?" She not quite shrieked the last syllable when the flame duck all but glomped her from behind and nuzzled the center of her back, between her shoulder blades. "I-I still have some ideas involving you, but I'd like to think on them some mo-ore!"

The nuzzling had turned to kissing.

Pipera meanwhile, just rolled her eyes. Inks smiled despite herself. "Okay, yeah."  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 22; Inks: [2, 4, 2, 9, 10, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 1, 4, 8, 10, 5, 9, 10, 10, 9, 6, 5, 5] was rolled for 12 successes.  
> 

  
  
Pipera admitted - with something that in another person might have been embarrassment, and which from Pipera was a dry comment about Inks' effect on her stress levels - that she'd somewhat neglected the businesses in the rush to scythe through Hinna's cult and track down where Inks was. Nothing was failing, and things were still ticking over, but she hadn't been paying enough attention to spot the-

"Rumours?" Inks demanded. "What rumours?"

"I don't know who's spreading them," Pipera explained. "They're not being shouted out in the middle of the street - and I was too busy riding herd on your exorcist to find out who the whispers are coming from. But there were suggestions, not long after you disappeared, that you were involved in cult activity. Demonology. That you'd mustered a demon-force on the edge of the city and had retreated to arm it in preparation for an attack, 

that you'd kidnapped Hinna and planned to sacrifice her in some gory ritual, that you were working with Hinna and were both in the pockets of demons..."

She rolled her eyes. "There are more, but they're all in that vein. It's making the public uneasy. You've done a fairly good job of proving you're here in good faith, but someone with a lot of pull is making a concerted effort to rock your position. Your properties in Eighth Scorpion were offered buy-outs - that, at least, I caught and put a stop to, but some of them were considering it. The orphanage has lost staff, too. Soft Ash isn't sure where to."

"Well... " She did not quite curse, but her wordless tone very much got it across. "We lost trained nurses, and I know that we were paying them..." She quickly reasoned it out. "Considering the orphanage's population, I imagine some of them would be willing to take a paycut if they worked with ordinary children..."

"Okay. So public relations campaign is on the books. I also want to start thinking about branding and properly moving my assets under a central umbrella." Vahti had the grace to disengage from Inks for the moment, but stayed nearby all the same. "I probably don't fit well into the House system of Gem, but there has to be a way to found a company of sorts..."

"Okay, as far as the rumors go, I think we can use the Despot to help, as he can speak with more authority than I can. We need to meet with him anyway about the trial of Hinna's family. He hasn't carried out sentencing yet, I hope?"

"Not yet," Pipera confirmed. "I'll see to the rearrangements of the orphanage. Though I do suggest, if you want the neomah to have a room here, that you don't let the news get out." She smiled sweetly. "I can only imagine what people would think it was here for. Will that be all, Lady Inks?"

Inks considered. "Bidaha can stay here for the moment, but you're right, moving her to the hepatizon complex might be better in the long run." She shot one of her best smiles Pipera's way. "Thank you again, I'm glad you wanted to work with me."

"I wouldn't say wanted," Pipera quipped. "But I'll admit you're challenging. I'm still deciding whether it's in a good way or not." She tossed an amused smirk over her shoulder as she stalked off, already writing something down for a runner to take to the orphanage.

* * *

Gem's prison was - unlike most of the city - built on the outside of the caldera; a squat building half-set into the ground where guests of the Despot's limited mercy languished until their sentencing. There were two reasons for its location - first, to keep potentially-dangerous prisoners away from the general population, and second, to keep any hungry ghosts that rose from the executioner's square under the blistering eye of the sun, where they couldn't work their way into the tunnels and mines.

As a result, the cells were probably even less comfortable than Inks' had been during her confinement, and the limited water ration afforded to the condemned only made it worse. Though most judgements took place in the city proper; where the criminal could be dragged through the streets on display and forced to see the extent of Rankar's power and wealth before he decided on their punishment, he prefered that the more sensitive or delicate captives not be given a chance to unsettle his position.

Thus, there was a single point of luxury in the otherwise-harsh complex; a pavilion sheltered from the sun and heat by emplaced magics that looked out over the deadman's square. It was here that Inks found Rankar. Most of the lower ranks of the cult had already been executed, and blood pooled under the executioner's block, but he seemed to have left the most senior members for last.

Inks cringed, regretting on some level that she hadn't been there in time to... maybe not plead for mercy, but do something constructive. She approached, dressed down for the occasion in simpler, more conservative wardrobe. "Despot," She inclined her head. "Please forgive my intrusion."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Socialize to read him))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks: [10, 4, 3, 1, 4, 8] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
"Lady Inks," he greeted her. "It's good to see you well." If he'd heard about the rumours - or if he was their source, though Inks doubted that - he gave little sign of it. But there was a certain reserve back that she hadn't even noticed fading. Not that Rankar was ever expressive or warm, but this was more like the cold, suspicious figure that she'd first met on coming to Gem than the cautious, ruthless one who'd come to see her as useful to his rule.

"Doing the best I can. Taking a month has thrown me pretty far off track, but I'm working it out." Her tone and choice of word was deliberately light, but she sat down with all due respect. "I was hoping to weigh in on the judgment of Hinna's family, at least." She eyed the bloodied courtyard with no small amount of ill feeling. "Any objections?"

"You may give your opinion," Rankar allowed, with just a hint more volume than was strictly necessary. "But as Despot; their fates are ultimately in my hands."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Wits+Socialize at Diff 3 to make a realization, if you haven't already made it.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +1; Inks: [8, 2, 10, 4, 5, 2] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Ahhh, Inks thought. So that was it. From what Pipera had said, none of the rumours had so much as hinted at the idea that a demon-allied Inks was influencing the Despot himself - because any whispers of such would meet with swift and merciless retribution should his spies become aware of them. But all the same, he was putting a measure of distance in place and making it clear to any onlookers that he wasn't an Anathema-slave or a thrall. 

It was self-serving, but honestly it would probably benefit Inks if he could strike the right balance between showing himself independent and equal-or-superior to her while still displaying trust.

To the Despot's reminder, Inks nodded. "I understand completely." She decided not to ask after the 'investigaive' procedures that secured the rest of the cult- she couldn't attack that problem head on. "I can only speak for how Hinna's son, husband and daughter treated me, and I feel safe in saying the former two were complicit. Simya was largely coereced into it." She hummed, marshalling her arguments. "I would ask that you give her over to me for evaluation, and related to that I was hoping to secure Hinna's lab and other records for useful materials."

"I could speak more on the distinction of demonology versus infernalism, but I'd rather not waste our time. As for sentencing, I only ask that it be quick and painless. I guess I'm just not that full of wrath."

"Mmm." Rankar hummed thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the edge of his palanquin-seat. A gesture of his fingers waved the attendants away and delayed the next batch of prisoners being dragged out. "The laboratory you may take, as long as two of my guards are stationed at tunnel entrance that leads to it and another accompanies you there," he decided. "Stay silent on the matter; I don't wish for your ownership of the demon-cultist's workshop to become public knowledge. As for the girl..."

The heavy golden rings on his fingers and the gemstones the carried flashed in the light as his fingers drummed on the arm of his seat. "You have no doubt heard the rumours against you, Lady Inks. I have shown you favour, and though it is not spoken, some wonder in silence whether you have designs on my chair. I find myself in need of a masterstroke - some act or decree that will assure the city of the balance of power between us, while at the same time allowing you to restore your reputation." He didn't smile, but his lips turned up at the edges. "Provide me with one, and the girl is yours."

"Hmm... a challenge. Well I'm aiming to focus on my growing mercantile empire, which means heading out of Gem at least reasonably often for business purposes..."

"Oh, Okay. I think I understand what you're angling for. You want to make a statement to Gem at large that firmly defines where we stand relative to each other. Like, hypothetically you declare I'm in charge of such-and-such thing which puts me on a direction that's not threatening to you or Gem." She looked at him, seeking confirmation or clarification with an honestly curious grin.

He tilts his head, considers, and smiles faintly. "An expedition to negotiate more food out of the Coxati would be a good start. And should you succeed, there will be no shortage of goodwill for you in the city. Hmm. Yes, I think this might work."

"I think that will do nicely. When in doubt, remember that I am fairly compassionate- I go out of my way to help people after all." She rose smoothly and brushed the wrinkles out of her clothes. "I think that's all our business concluded for the moment. Please send any further instructions to my assistant or manor when convenient."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hmm. Do you want to touch base with Gion or Janissa?))  
> Inks: (Sure, I have one last thing I'd like to do at end of session unless Gion and Jannissa take too long)  
> Inks: (Ready for scenechange)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Well, you can stunt going and finding Gion. And, heh. Roll Per+Bur at Diff 3 for a detail you can work into your stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [1, 4, 9, 10, 8, 2, 3, 2, 10, 6] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Inks has picked up from the chatter that, uh))  
> ST: ((House Trasti has been making some suspicious transfers of money to places outside of Gem, and doing some pretty rushed preparations to move a lot more.))  
> ST: ((It looks like Gion has been panicking and trying to arrange an evacuation, but not nearly as efficiently or as subtly as he was hoping to.))  
> Inks: (Guessing Gion's visions are getting more intense/pressing... Or he thinks that Ink's dissappearance was involved.)  
> ST: ((It has been making people whose wealth is tied to House Trasti what might be called Decidedly Nervous or Unhappy or Both.))  
> 

  
  
From the prison, Inks returned home for the evening. If not for the rumors, she would've taken her time with the invitation, but all signs pointed to a particularly rushed endeavor, so she had to accelerate her timetable. Sending a politely worded invitation, she urged him to meet her at the manor at his earliest convenience.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Speed the wheels, int+bur = 10d +3 autosux; Diff = 1; before external penalty)  
> ST: ((No external penalty. Gion is all too happy to see Inks in his personal chambers.))  
> ST: ((or her manor))  
> ST: ((or anywhere near a bedroom, tbh))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [10, 9, 6, 4, 6, 6, 6, 3, 7, 5] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (so 4x faster meeting time)  
> ST: ((Yeah, that'll be same-day.))  
> ST: ((The preparations aren't, like, move-everything-out-next-week stuff.))  
> ST: ((But they're the signs of him rushing a dramatic action/major project and mishandling it in a clumsy way as he tries to make sure that Trasti finances will survive if Gem goes under.))  
> Inks: (got it)  
> 

  
  
Arriving barely a few hours later, as the sun was starting its trek west and the sky started to slowly turn orange, Trasti Gion looked fit for a night on the town, or a night in. Inks for her part did not exactly dissuade him of this, but she wanted to talk business first.

"I apologize for being out of contact for so long, but I was... indisposed." Now that she thought about it, she had no idea how public her capture was. "Anyway, forgive me for prying, but I've heard that Trasti holdings are diversifying out of Gem?"

He essayed a self-effacing grin. "Well, your sudden disappearance was as alarming as it was heartbreaking, fair lady. We feared the worst. And I may have... overreacted a little, having worse to fear than most."

"I noticed." She shot back a dry grin. Guiding him back to a luxurious span of cushions not far from the baths, she urged him to take a seat. Maji perked up from his usual spot near the kitchens and muscled over, before pointedly yawning, bare inches away from Gion's face. "Maji!" Inks huffed. "He's... protective, moreso now."  
  


>   
> ST: ((... soooo, Gion just botched that Valor check.))  
> Inks: (Well, I admittedly expected that. Is he running away screaming or do I have time to react?)  
> 

  
  
Gion didn't reply, because he'd gone dead pale at the sight of huge jaws and gleaming fangs so close to his face, and the low rumble of Maji's nowadays-seemingly-everpresent growl appeared to have taken all rigidity from his legs. He swayed alarmingly and started to tilt sideways.

... Right into Vahti's waiting curves. The Flame Duck cocked an eyebrow at Inks, arms and chest full of Trasti Gion. "Is he out cold?"

* * *

It appeared that, while the young head of house wasn't outright unconscious, he was certainly not going to be in much of a state to answer questions for a while.

Deciding that perhaps a change of venue was in order, Inks helped get him settled in the warded bedchamber set aside for him. With Gion taken care of for the moment, Inks considered who or what else to attend to. Janissa was likely worried, so she sent another message off to the glittering socialite and waited for a reply.

No reply came back immediately - perhaps Janissa was busy or otherwise occupied - and Gion roused himself after only half an hour or so. He was crimson with quiet humiliation when Inks came in to check on him, and seemed to be trying to find an excuse for his display of weakness in front of a beautiful woman.

"Gion, Maji intimidates me and he treats me like his treasured sister. The only other person I've seen who doesn't fear him is a little godblooded girl." Vahti followed Inks in with a jug of expensive wine and sweet treats. The bedroom itself was furnished well, making up for ostentatious wealth with good taste and design. They both ignored the padded chairs in favor of crawling up on the bed. "Humor me Gion- I expect to talk business and pleasure tonight."

He cleared his throat, settling onto the bed and taking a healthy gulp of wine. "Do continue, then. With more of the latter than the former, I hope," he added with a wink.

"A nice way of looking at things-" Inks grinned, wider still when Vahti moved to pull at the ties around her neck, revealing more of the tattoo and letting Inks's dress slip free of her shoulders. Along with the treats were some papers, summaries of Trasti's assets as composed by Piper and Inks not an hour before. "I can understand your drive to move Trasti holdings to safer ports, but this rush job is going to hurt short term and long term..." She had Gion's undivided attention, for numerous reasons, enough that he only noticed Vahti wrapping her arms around him from behind as an addition to the expanding experience.

From there, she drafted a rough plan just as a gesture of good will, aiming to smooth out the complications he and his house were suffering. Inks continued on, outlining a stronger, more comprehensive proposal with a longer term payoff in mind. "A month or so ago you up and asked me to marry you- and you're not the first, probably won't be the last." She grinned, impish and wise.

"But I'm not interested in the pomp and ritual. I would however be interested in a more practical alliance, either with you directly or House Trasti as a whole. Your diversification actually puts me in an advantageous position, because I can cite you as a reference in distant markets. Ideally, I would shore up your procedures here and abroad..." She quickly sketched out an example of how to more efficiently manage expenses, secure more payments from lending and interst, and general investment advice.

Having laid it all out, Inks stretched, waiting for Gion to make his move.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll Int+Bur for the plans she drafts?))  
> Inks: !Ex 22  
> Inks: !ex 22; Inks: [5, 6, 9, 5, 3, 1, 2, 2, 10, 8, 5, 3, 2, 1, 5, 7, 9, 3, 4, 9, 9, 9] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (Eh, doable)  
> 

  
  
Gion's interest was clearly peaked, his resolve firm, his attention roused. Oh, and he was following her suggestions for his House, too. Granted, he was paying less attention to that than to her other pointed... qualities, but even so, he was soon nodding and murmuring agreement.

... it did occur to Inks that this was probably something that an uncharitable mind might point to as evidence of her enthralling the head of a major noble family to her wicked and sinful whims.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So are the plans of good quality and will Gion follow them?)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

  
  
"So with that done, I think we can save the discussion of a proper alliance for tommorow morning." Setting the papers and the last of the wine aside, Inks and Vahti gave Gion a gentle tug, one on each arm. "Right now..."

Inks and Vahti shared the same, slow inviting smile, and Trasti Gion was not far behind.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Aaaand since it's basically midnight where I am, I think we can end session there.))  
> ST: ((4xp+1mxp, and we're now nicely set up to move on into the next arc.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thanks for the session ST. )  
> Inks: The thing I wanted to do was line up training for Vahti (and Pesala)  
> Inks: but we can do that next week just fine  
> Inks: any session thoughts ST ?  
> ST: hmm  
> ST: I'm pretty happy with how this went  
> ST: I did enough prep-work that it came fairly easily, and it felt like you were in good form  
> Inks: I thought so too, we got a lot done  
> 

  
  



	26. Session 26: The Dragon of the Burning Sands Returns

There were benefits to waking up sprawled among two partners after a half-the-night-long threesome, and there were downsides. The benefits included boobs. The downsides featured elbows. 

Inks yawned and stretched grandly, pleasantly sore in all the best ways, clean and refreshed in the way only artifice allowed. She turned a fond smile to Vahti's bare green back before leaning down and whispering in the elemental's ear. "Keep an eye on Gion, encourage him to take a few naps, relax." 

From there she eased out of the bed, noting Vahti's teasing little half-awake smile before ducking out into the baths. Pipera was awake, sitting at the main table and sipping from a steaming mug. Inks slipped into the bath and hummed. "We're going make a few rounds of my holdings, keep everyone abreast of the situation. To that, Pipera nodded and moved to take note. 

Refreshed, dressed, and with an eye toward the future, Inks, Pipera and Maji made a winding circut of Gem's industrial and mercantile holdings, starting with those she already had controlling interest. To all she asked simple questions- what do you want to sell in Coxati lands, what do you want to buy? She gathered bank drafts and promissory notes, instruments of trade and business transaction. Radiating outward, she canvased the greater economic space of Gem, before finally concluding her trip with the Despot's own financial advisors, and the focus of her expedition to Coxati.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Int+Bur I guess, aiming to secure advantageous investors)  
>  ST: ((Roll it. 2-die stunt, +1 from Pipera.))  
>  Inks: !ex 23; Inks: [5, 7, 8, 7, 2, 10, 10, 5, 6, 6, 1, 7, 7, 4, 6, 10, 5, 10, 3, 1, 8, 2, 4] was rolled for 14 successes.  
> 

A yellow-lit teahouse in the Ring tunnels below Scartoll served as a mid-morning breakfast spot, and Pipera closed her eyes for a moment over the bowls of yogurt and hummus.

"So, to review," she said, "we've got substantial interest in one-off trades for small goods - you buy them here and sell them there. You have the funds for that, but you're going to need a caravan to get them all there." She paused, closing her eyes again with the pursed-lipped expression Inks recognized as accessing something from deep memory. "On which note; Suleiman Al Ea is due back next month; you might want to factor that into your plans." 

"On top of that, we have several good choices..." Breaking off for a moment, Pipera levelled a calm stare at Maji, who was edging his nose onto the table towards the cheese tray. "Don't try," she advised, before continuing. "Several good choices for more direct backing. Flitting Sand Fial; food merchant who owns a ration manufacturing field, Joyous Bronze in the ore business, and Descending Mantis - a livestock merchant from up on Fifth Scorpion." 

"And then there are the riskier bets. You might be able to find some interest among the Rangers - possibly by going right to the top; Elemi Piercing Sun. And Josir an Wessar or Triumphant Reed would have the resources to help fund a trip, too - but you'd have to give them a reason to."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((From the Guide to Gem doc; they're two of the semi-independent Dragonblooded residing in Gem.))  
>  ST: ((Inks also has a Contact she can tap for information about the Coxati, from back when she was sourcing GSW drugs.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. So the context here is that if Inks were just to go alone, it'd be the Despot's mission and whatever she brings back, caravan or not. If she heads out with actual goods, she'll need a caravan.)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

"I'm going to prioritize long-term or repeat business, though if we have room, we can expand." She hummed thoughtfully, sipping her own tea. "Hmm. I don't think Suleiman's group can make a trip through the _mountains_ though, not the route I expect we'll be taking."

>   
>  Inks: (Okay, so this is an ideal case for Insightful Buyer Technique; By invoking it, I now know the concrete value of food, ore, or livestock in relation between Gem and Coxati. Basically the answer I want is 'What cost the least here, and the most there?')  
>  ST: ((Okay, so. Crops, livestock and ore are actually three of the big _exports_ of the Coxati - the three merchants mentioned above would mostly be interested in giving Inks raw funds to set up better trade deals (much like what the Despot wants). Gem mostly pays for them with gems, firedust and slaves, as well as certain types of artifice.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, that wasn't clear, it seemed like they were giving her material goods to carry out- what you just said is more what I originally envisioned)  
>  Inks: (Why carry heavy goods when paper and deals are lighter and more lucrative?)  
>  ST: ((Most of the small goods that Inks has found interest in fall into the latter category - tools and machined work that the Coxati find it harder to produce - though she's aware that Susilo Moto has been trying to bootstrap his territory up in tech.))  
>  ST: ((But the Despot expressly forbade her from dealing with him.))  
>  Inks: (Right, was just about to ask)  
>  ST: ((However, not all mountain lords are alike, and their territories do diverge somewhat in what they're best at producing/have most of.))  
>  Inks: (Legit. Got an idea.)  
> 

Finishing her tea with a satisfied sigh, Inks nodded to Pipera. "Make arrangements for Fial, Bronze and Mantise, I'll carry their proposals and make some deals on their behalf. Before you go, do you have a suggestion on what Emeli Piercing Sun would like as a gift?"

"Someone to knock his grandson into shape?" Pipera suggested sardonically. Even Inks had heard of Elemi Sundering Jade's reputation as a reprobate and womaniser. "But I assume you mean something that's actually possible to do. Hmm." She drummed her fingers on the table and tugged the cheese dish closer to her just as a paw came down on it. "He was injured a long time ago, fighting a Lord of Chaos. It never fully healed, and nowadays he walks with a limp. Find a way to treat that, and you'd definitely earn a friend."

"Thanks." Inks stood up with a grin and waved for Maji to follow, and the tiger gave the cheese tray one more mournful glance. Moving with purpose through Gem's streets and social circles, she arranged for a casual meeting with the founder and defacto leadership of the Rangers. She did not exactly dress down for the visit, but made a point to position herself in a somewhat less brazen, profoundly sensual manner. She could relax later. The Rangers were an austere sort, funneling most of their wealth and prestige into their personal gear or other assets. Their properties were unadorned but tasteful, and the patio Inks found herself in for the meeting was pleasantly shaded by functional awnings. The chairs were sturdy, comfortable lacquered wood, and likely as old as Emeli Piercing Sun.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hmm. Are you using Charms to get that meeting?))  
>  Inks: (Speed the WHeels seems reasonable)  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +3; Inks: [3, 7, 9, 9, 4, 8, 2, 3, 4, 2, 7, 8] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

The ancient ranger himself was not in evidence, and Inks was met by a solid wall of a woman, taller even than she was. She brought to mind the volcanos to the west - great mountains of once-molten stone; dark and looming, and was dressed in the leather armour of a Ranger commander.

It took a moment for Inks to place her. Yes, this must be Sagacious Wing - Piercing Sun's only Dragonblooded child. She looked only five years or so older than Inks, despite being twice that age, and dropped into one of the larger chairs with a creak. 

"My father doesn't meet people without a very good reason," she said bluntly. "So, what do you want? Be brief about it." She glanced over Maji assessingly, and Inks thought that her respect might have notched upwards. Slightly.

Inks nodded and did not waste time sitting down. "I am leading an expedition to Coxati to re-negotiate or develop new trading agreements with various interests in Gem. The Rangers and your father might be interested, so I wanted to ask."

"Re-negotiate how?" Sagacious Wing looked bored and impatient - and on top of that she seemed out of place in a chair on a patio; more suited to war-tents or the back of a simhata. "Trade has never been of much interest to father - at least, not in the fine details."

Outwardly calm- though not perfectly, Inks did not have the most complete control of her expression by any stretch, she considered what she knew of Emeil in particular and the Rangers in general.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Stunt and roll Charisma+Presence or Manipulation+Socialize for "why he'll be interested in _this_ "; whichever applies to the stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Is that a diagnoistic roll or a persuasion roll?)  
>  ST: ((Persuasion.))  
>  ST: ((You can check Guide to Gem for what's known about him.))  
>  ST: ((Or roll for ideas if you want.))  
> 

Raw materials to make better equipment to protect Gem from threats foreign and domestic. Rare medicines to save lives in combat and at home. Food for healthy families, potential allies with connections to new and other powers beyond that of Gem. She polished the wording a bit in her mind before saying such to Sagacious Wing, and then nodding decisively. "-Having said all that, I can also offer one potential boon for Emeli himself. I am a doctor and surgeon of expert skill. I don't know _now_ , but I believe I can develop a technique to not merely treat, but restore maimed limbs."

>   
>  Inks: (Socialize is almost never used for persuasion itself, which is what threw me. It's usually more of a throttle ability on mass social or a diagnostic ability)  
>  Inks: (Be advised that severely hampers Inks here, her cha+soc pool is like 3 dice.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Okay. Bleh, I'm honestly not that good with the differences between Charisma/Manipulation and Presence/Socialize. I shall remember that in future. Cha+Pres, then.))  
>  Inks: (Pres is single target, Perf area of effect, socialize is 'Courts and manners')  
>  Inks: (That's basically all you have to know)  
>  Inks: !ex 17 "Cha 2 Pres 4, +3 Style +6 1st ex"; Inks: [1, 7, 6, 2, 4, 1, 4, 7, 2, 2, 8, 10, 9, 8, 2, 6, 8] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> 

Sagacious Wing's eyebrows shoot up at that, and she grunts in surprise. "Hnn. Alright, that alone is enough reason to let you talk to him." She jerked her thumb behind her, towards a grand tent that gave a wide view out down the mountainside that ranged from the distant Scar on the left to the Coxati mountains on the right. "He's even less patient than I am, so don't bother with the kowtowing or flirting. And don't let him wrestle the tiger." That said, she stood and strode out in the direction of the training grounds; Inks' audience apparently over.

The insides of the tent were as austere as the rest of the Ranger quarters, but were decorated in rich form with weapons, hunting trophies, medals and books. Furs lined the floor, and... was that a _furnace rhino hide?_ The mind boggled. One chair near the opposite side of the tent was occupied; its owner staring southward with a book in his lap.

Inks whistled softly, and Maji prowled in alongside, sniffing loudly at the furs and evaluating them as inferior to his own and that he would have had a _far_ easier time hunting them than the man in the chair did. Inks silently shushed the tiger before clearing her throat. "Heya. I'm going on a trade expedition to Coxati. I want the Rangers to help back it. I can fix your leg after a few weeks study." She let it all out in a Inks rush, not willing to waste the man's time.

"Mmm?" A gnarled hand reached out to grab the staff leant against the wall beside the chair, and Elemi Piercing Sun hoisted himself to his feet. Inks hadn't actually seen him in person before, and up close, the Dragon of the Burning Sands cut an impressive figure. 

He was old - as old as Iblan Asenya - but where she was wispy and frail, the eldest Elemi looked like a banked but still-scorching flame. His hair was a shock of ash-white - once as orange-red as flame - and he had a vibrant face that brought to mind a great desert cat, with sharp cheekbones and freckles dotted like sparks across his dark skin.

He still stood straight - albeit with the help of his dragon-headed staff; and looked Inks up and down from deep-set eyes. And then looked Maji up and down, with rather more interest. Inks could actually see the word 'pelt' go through his head for a second.

"Sun-girl, hmm," he said. "You wouldn't be the first who'd tried to fix my leg. I suppose you might be up to the task where others weren't. What do you want from the peaks?" He stomped closer, the staff thudding on the floor with every other step. Pipera hadn't been exaggerating - the limp was severe. "More food? Soldiers? Those spirit-gimmicks they brag about?"

"Maybe not soldiers-" Inks hummed. "I can get those elsewhere, but I am in the business of business- and Coxati is a market that isn't being fully tapped." She paused, smiling. "I admit I was thinking 'I sound like a total charlatan' with the claims of healing your leg, but I really think I can, I just don't know _how_ yet." 

"As for what I want... Technically this expedition is a favor to the Despot, but I'm expanding it so we can make more money and get access to more exotic materials, skills and so on."

He grunted and nodded approvingly, limping over to Maji and leaning down a little to look him in the eye. "Gouge them out of more food for less money, you mean," he said. "If you want soldiers or mercenaries; get 'em from Gem. Don't trust White-Eyes; he's the main source of trained killers in the Peaks. Food, though." 

Turning back to her, he regarded her with a scorching gaze. "You've been moving up with a fire on your heels in Seventh," he allowed. "All of those peak-lords have some spirit-bargain or trick or pact they brag about. Half of them sell themselves for power. How sure are you of gouging more out of them. When they rage at you with molten rock or blind fury, will you stand your ground?" 

His hair ignited in a sudden flash, embers seemed to dance in his freckles and the staff in his hand gave a low, reptilian growl. He leaned in, fierce and predatory. " _Will you hold true?_ "  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll Valor.))  
>  ST: ((Also, you know, Cha+Pres an answer.))  
> 

Inks backed up one step, and her calf stopped at the unyielding bulk of Maji, before her own eyes narrowed and a fire to match his lit up in her eye. "First of all- Gouge is a foul word to my ear. Buying low and selling high is all well and good, but if you bleed someone dry, they can't keep doing business with you."

>   
>  Inks: (can we stunt virtue rolls, or is that not allowed?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I... think it's allowed? Hold on while I check... it doesn't say. Hmm. I'm going to say no, because if you fail I think you can spend a WP to force it down.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
>  Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [7, 4] was rolled for 1 success.  
> 

"Second of all," Inks reared up to her full height- she was tall for a woman, but not overly so. Regardless, she locked eyes with him. "I am many things. Chosen of the Sun, Anathema, woman, savant, sorcerer." She held out her arm and in a flash of blinding sunlight, called Chronicle to her hand. The blade dropped wide-point first onto the floor with a heavy thump.

"But I am _not_ helpless!"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Hmm.. Ths is in line with her motivation right? mercantile empire, +1 to stunt rating?)  
>  ST: ((Hah. Yes, it is. Roll Cha+Pres.))  
>  ST: ((3 dice stunt. :D))  
>  Inks: (Channeling conviction as well, 2+4 + 6 + 3 + 5)  
>  Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [7, 9, 3, 9, 6, 5, 1, 1, 7, 3, 6, 10, 7, 8, 1, 8, 6, 8, 3, 2] was rolled for 10 successes.  
>  ST: ((Niiiiiice.))  
> 

"Ha!" He bared tobacco-yellowed teeth in a savage grin, and Inks rather thought she'd impressed him. "They're trying to gouge Gem, girl," he said. "You either strike back or you'll be the one bleeding out your last. You'll need to be harsh if you want to wrench anything more out of their grasp." He gripped his staff tighter for a moment, and a few wobbling steps took him back to sag down into his chair. "But you've the nerve for it. Take a ranger escort. And a steed. Talk to Wing about it; send her my way if she balks."

Inks hefted Chronicle across her shoulders with a nod. "Got it.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Alright, so we've secured Piercing Sun's support of the expedition, and the other investors. Nothing else is immediately coming to mind that I have to pay game attention to?))  
>  ST: ((You might want to tap your Contact again before setting off, and you should probably talk to Ajjim and Pesala if you want them to come along.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

* * *

After a relaxing walk through Gem, Inks called upon Brushed Sand Salib for any input on the Coxati expedition. She was still a bit flushed with success over her dealings with Piercing Sun, bouncing on her toes while she waited for the advisor-ambassador to join her one of the Crown Tunnel cafes.

The portly man was all too happy to join her at a pleasant eating-house, and availed himself of several drinks while they chatted; his eyes occasionally dipping down below the collarbones before being dragged back up again a few seconds - or minutes - later. 

"You'll want to watch out for the cults, of course" he explained wisely, taking a gulp of something alcoholic. "Their sun-goddess lunacy is one thing - you might even be able to exploit that - but the moon cults... they're bad news. Keep your distance from the shriekers. They've the death penalty in a lot of the valleys, and they're known for brutality." He screwed his face up and shuddered. "As long as you don't make yourself a close ally of any of the lords, you might be able to slide by as neutral and avoid getting caught up in the whole mess. Which lords are you going to visit?"

"I've already made some good impressions on _Saudari_ Etayadi Fire-in-Earth from a previous deal. I was thinking of starting there."

Brushed Sand screwed his eyes shut. "Let me see, let me see... crops, herbs and textiles, for the most part. Lord Pangasutri White-Eyes is the other main supplier of our crops, as well as most of our livestock - the deal we had with the last Xand fell through when the new one took the flame four years ago, I'm afraid."

"What's a Xand?"

"Mmm!" Stuffing a roll into his mouth, Brushed Sand chewed hastily and swallowed, then selected two more to gesture with. "So, the Xandian valley-lords; superstitious lunatics. They believe their leader - always a Xand; the current girl calls herself Xandia, the last one was Axandar - they believe their leader reincarnates. But not as a baby; no, they think that at the death of one Xand," he waved one of the rolls, "his spirit _chooses_ one of his successors and becomes one with them." Walking the first roll over to the second, he taps them together and tosses the first into his mouth. " S'why the new girl is, mm, only twenty one now? She was the youngest of all his heirs, but apparently Axandar's spirit 'chose her', so she took the flame as ruler."

"Gotcha. And Gem hasn't been able to really talk with her or make a deal with the 'new government'." She left it off as a statement, but the question was implied.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I miiiiight have to change my xp plan, if this is going where I think it's going)  
>  Inks: (This is much more complex than I was expecting, and I as a player am not sure how to handle it. Still playing on, but worth examining post-session)  
> 

"Practically her first act was to start a war by annexing one of Pangasutri's lesser valleys," Brushed Sand shrugged. "Holding onto both contracts wasn't possible, so..."

"That was four years ago, of course," he added, "and the war concluded eventually, but... yes, the trade agreement was never renewed."

"Oh, that helps." Inks exhaled softly. "For a second I thought I was going into an active warzone.... So Xandia decided to strike hard and fast on her ascension and Gem did not get a chance to renew some of the trade agreements." She stretched languidly, arms high above her head and fingers laced together. "Alright- thank you for coming by. I have some other errands to take care of, unless there's anything else?"

It looks like he's trying to muster the courage to ask something, but his nerve seems to fail him at the last minute and he shakes his head. "No no, uh... lovely as ever to speak to you, my lady. Do, um, please do call upon me whenever you... have, uh, business."

"Oh well now I'm _curious_." Inks smiled and dropped her arms, leaning fowrard so he elbows were on the table and wrists folded over each other. Her shoulders were bare, as were her collarbones, as... enough of everything to make it abundantly clear how she got her name. "Don't be shy-" She flashed white teeth. "I don't bite- unless you ask."

"W-well, if you would be interested in... enjoying a meal with me... informally?" he managed to squeak out; flushing brick red and crossing his legs hastily.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks you are a cruel woman)  
> 

"Possibly!" The grin was honest, and said in certain terms that she meant actually possible, as opposed to a polite extemporization or dismissal. "Probably not until after the Coxati expedition though, so don't wait up for me if someone else catches your eye." She stood with a fair amount of grace and bowed. "You've been a great help, as usual. The meal's on me."

With that, she turned and Maji followed- though the tiger had a large hunk of rare and expertly seasoned meat-on-the-bone in his jaws. Leaving Brushed Sand, she headed back to the townhouse, pleased to find Ajjim sitting at the dining table, cleaning what looked like a random trinket from one of his own expeditions.

* * *

He glanced up from it as she came in and gave her the little half-nod-half-bow she was used to. "Lady Inks," he greeted, attention swinging back to the spherical... thingie, as he cleaned sand out of its various crevices. "I hope you had a fruitful day?"

"Indeed I did- I wished to add you to it actually. And your daughter." She sat down and quickly laid out the expedition plan, but punctuated it with a simple heartfelt idea. "You and Pesala split apart from eachother a lot on adventures. I figured going on one together, with Pipera, Vahti and I as support, would be good for the two of you. What do you think?"

He hesitated, and put the device down carefully. "I'm... not keen on taking Pesala out so young," he said. "Her mother and I used to take her along on short, safe trips; before she was old enough to stay with neighbours or friends, but since... since it became the two of us..."

"I understand. Part of why I was wanting to invite you out was also to perhaps find a mentor, someone she could learn from... and Vahti, actually, and I had a few ideas but..." She shrugged. "Well, nothings set in stone, but I believe in equipping people to handle challenges, not holding them back." She paused, smiling. "I'm still going to look for a mentor, mind, but it's your decision for either of you to come with me. I'm not obligating you at all."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Is she trying to convince him enough to roll for it, or leaving it up to him?))  
>  Inks: (Leaving it up to him.)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. Hmm. Okay, if there's nothing else you want to do, feel free to stunt preparing for your trip - along with who you intend to visit (both the Coxati, and also potentially places like Cahzor or Sun Under Water, etc.))  
> 

What followed was a whirlwind endeavor of arranging for numerous interests to align. In a very real, practical sense, Inks was attempting to arrange for an expedition that would take months to plan. She was significantly more Charming than most.

>   
>  Inks: (Speed the Wheels as a general 'theme' of what Inks is doing at the dramatic level, on caravan preparations)  
>  ST: ((Gotcha. That divides the time by four, then, meaning this is probably taking a week, maybe a week and a half.))  
>  ST: ((Ironically, this is in fact precisely a Begin Project action.))  
> 

Notarized contracts sealed with wax or bound with fine silk thread, denoting the authority and accounts she could use on the behalf of her investors. Gemstones assayed by the Despot's slave-craftsmen, handed out as proof of collateral. Supplies were laid in, and Inks was the hub on which all of these actions turned. Pipera was in her element, flitting from job to job with a poised, effortless grace, flowing like water through the emergent logistical flow. Vahti meanwhile stayed at Inks's side, on hand for a massage or more when she needed.

More hangers-on and entrepreneurs joined the proceedings, unaffiliated directly, but once it became clear that Inks had extra space, she saw no reason not to draft contract after contract in mutual favor. The Rangers joined as well, delivering to her a strong band of guards and a handsome mount compliments of that proud organization.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Simhata mount, incidentally.))  
>  Inks: (Oh damn, I've never seen one of those in game!)  
>  Inks: (Hmm, would this project have an external penalties?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, the Rangers don't have many, but Piercing Sun liked her. Oh, and in case it comes up, Gion didn't have any nightmares the night he stayed over, though he doesn't have them every night anyway. Will Inks let him sleep over for the rest of the week or so?))  
>  Inks: (She will)  
>  ST: ((Then yeah, it looks like the dreams aren't reaching him - he always has at least one a week, and spent this week sleeping with peace he's not had in years.))  
>  ST: ((No penalties. Despot-sanctioned mission means nobody wants to obstruct her. : P))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so we know someone's Sending the visions, which means we can start figuring out who/why)  
> 

Through it all, Inks worked far into the night, pouring over medical textbook and meditating on the flows and essences of the human body. At the end of her studies, she had devised an anatomical model of a man, dripping with pins and red threads denoting all that was good and harmonious in a healthy being... At the end of her preparations, the day before she set to leave, she asked to meet with Emeli Piercing Sun once more.

>   
>  Inks: (Six days gives me enough time to learn wholeness-restoring meditation)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. By RAW that means you're training for four hours a day all six days on top of the all-day preparations you've got going on. Roll me Sta+Res at Diff 3 to power through lack-of-sleep. Vahti counts as a +1 bonus die.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +1; Inks: [3, 3, 1, 9, 8, 9] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

* * *

The Ranger training grounds were, like many of their residences, on the southern slopes of the volcano outside the city proper, where Rankar's Peak and the caldera wall still provided shade. Piercing Sun sat cross-legged on a woven mat; his dragon-headed staff across his knees, and looked out across a field cleared of desert-brush where Rangers sparred. Inks spotted Ryabu somewhere near the back; attempting a slightly-too-flashy staff move and being disarmed. 

"Well, sun-girl?" Piercing Sun demanded hawkishly, spotting the momentary glance. "Stop gawking at the bare chests; you can see more of them on your own time. What is it?"

"I've developed the technique to treat your leg- and similar issues." She bowed without preamble. "Would you like me to treat you here, or somewhere else?"

That got his attention. "Have you now? Alright." He levered himself up on his staff and barked a quick flurry of commands at one of the higher-ranking trainees, then nodded towards a low-slung dry-stone building. "In there'll do. C'mon. Lead the way, if you dawdle behind me we'll never get there." 

Despite his words, he was only somewhat slower than the average person's stride; stomping along and stabbing his staff into the ground with every beat of his right leg as though it were an unruly prisoner he was subduing. The building turned out to be a changing barracks, with leathers and shalwar hung up on nails hammered into the walls above pairs of boots and a couple of low benches. Piercing Sun swung himself onto one; right leg stretched out. "Have at it, then," he ordered, stifling a cough.

Inks nodded, first giving him and his injuries a once over. Her diagnosis was complete, and she carefully evaluated the sinew and flesh of his limb. "Alright..."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So Flawless diagnosis, do I have a complete picture of his medical symptoms?)  
>  ST: ((Oooooo.))  
>  ST: ((Does she focus on the leg or do a general evaluation?))  
>  Inks: (General evaluation, but each element I have sufficient information on, I diagnose completely)  
> 

Inks started with the leg, and... wow. As far as she could tell from cautious essence-probes, it felt like every bone from his hip to his ankle had been shattered. No, not shattered. _Crushed_. Pipera had said it had been a lord of chaos - Inks believed it. A malignant energy lingered in the poorly-healed bone, preventing the natural healing of the Exalted from making a full recovery. Honestly, it was a miracle he'd kept the leg at all; the man must have had the constitution of a yeddim back when he actually received the wound.

That was not, however, the only thing wrong with him. Inks initially only gave the rest of him a look over out of pure, reflexive habit - but it was a good thing she did. The cough was symptomatic of decades spent smoking who knew what, and his lungs had paid for it. And, she realized as she probed deeper; that flash of weakness she'd seen in the tent hadn't been coincidence. His heart was weak - weaker than it should be, even for a man as venerable as him. No wonder his reputation as a war-sorcerer had been gathering dust for years. Casting anything strenuous - to say nothing of flaring his anima to the highest levels - would probably risk giving him a heart attack.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Maimed leg, long-term smoking damage in the lungs, weak heart. Also, uh, 220 years old, which unfortunately Inks can't treat.))  
>  ST: ((Even for a DB, he's getting on a bit.))  
>  Inks: (Technically as long as it's classified as a Crippling effect, she can)  
>  ST: (I don't think "aging" is Crippling-keyworded. :P))  
>  Inks: (So yes, if he is suffering from a crippling effect that is caused by age, she can treat the actual keyworded injury. It actually is!)  
>  Inks: (Correction, Aging related issues are _sickness_ effects)  
>  ST: ((Mmm. I don't think there's precedent for "a Solar doctor can basically keep you alive forever", though.))  
>  Inks: (No no, you misunderstand)  
>  Inks: (Inks can't keep this man alive longer than his own nature- but she _can_ remove the wear and tear aging causes on his body. Eventually he is going to give out, but it's the difference between a slow grinding death and a quick, final passing at the end of his lifespan)  
>  ST: ((Ahh, gotcha.))  
>  Inks: (Or more directly, she can treat the _damage_ say- arthritis causes to joints and tissue, she can't stop the fact that he's going to start building up that damage again right afterwards, but functionally, it's still 'cured')  
>  ST: ((Kk.))  
>  Inks: (Anyway, important- is the heart a Crippling keyword or Sickness? And the lungs?)
> 
> ST: ((Both are Crippling - basically just extended damage piling up (and up and up and up), along with some of the usual crap that adventuring heroes like he used to be will find themselves running into over the course of their adventuring; eg "a vast number of unpleasant things trying to kill them in numerous inventive ways".))  
>  ST: ((In the case of the lungs, Inks suspects that a large portion of said unpleasant things consisted of whatever the hell he was putting in his cigars.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, so I'm looking at three separate treatment rolls, which all take an hour. IF I roll 5+ successes each time, I pay 5m to 'treat them' completely- they convalesce at whatever rate you feel appropriate,but the actual PRocedures take an hour.)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: (Base difficulty of each roll, please?)  
>  ST: ((The leg is Diff 4 with a +6 external penalty against healing. Heart is Diff 5. Lungs are Diff 4.))  
>  Inks: (Hot damn)  
>  ST: ((Yeah. This guy was basically a PC back in his day, and was doing PC shit for decades. And that lord of chaos /really/ did not go down easy.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, okay. Writing a stunt)  
> 

* * *

"Alright- bring your best field medics in-" she stood up with a decisive move, reaching up to more firmly tie her hair back into a bun. "Pipera?" She spoke aloud, event though her executive assistant wasn't present. She was confident the other woman was listening though. "Arrange for a delivery of some materials." She rattled off a few names of compounds, tinctures, the finest acupuncture needles Inks owned. 

It took hardly any time at all to convert the barracks into an improvised treatment hall. Pipera joined, depositing the cases of supplies without a word, glancing at Emeli once before taking a position against one wall. The medics Inks requested arrived next, and from there she got to work. 

Acupuncture, carefully harnessing Essence and the healthy flows of the own physio-mancy to encourage good health and wellness. An Exalt was already a hearty sort, so the challenge was as much *removing* the bad energies as it was empowering the good ones. Recalling the main line of her model back home, she carefully drew a chain of needles into the man's thigh- down his knee and shin all the way to the ankle. He bore it without a word or grunt.

Alchemically treated thread was round carefully across the needles, until finally she reached a chakra point on his hip- she hiked up his robe with a wry grin. "Here's your support line. Get ready."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay, int+med +5 successes from 2nd excellency, +5d from Conviction, +2d from Medicine Style, +2 stunt; Assistant/tool bonuses?)  
>  ST: ((+2 dice))  
>  Inks: !ex 19 +5; Inks: [3, 5, 6, 4, 7, 10, 5, 4, 2, 4, 10, 4, 9, 7, 3, 7, 2, 3, 1] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (So -6 = 9, and then -4 from difficulty; Note that the solar med charms don't actually care about Threshold Successes, they just care if you rolled 5+)  
>  Inks: (so yeah, spending 5m to treat the leg)  
>  ST: ((Awesome. She's treating the heart and lungs at the same time?))  
>  Inks: (I assume I'd have to do separate rolls, but I have the motes for it)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, roll them too, then.))  
> 

By the end of the first treatment, Inks's body was suffused by a glowing, golden aura, casting outward, the tattoo that had given her name seemed to extend off her skin into the air all around her, rich, resplendent golds, purples and all the colors of the bright night sky. Her task was not done.

she knelt back down with a will and arrayed more needles and thread across his chest, first for his heart, drawing a hexagramic design of stability and wellness!  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 16 +5; Inks: [9, 8, 4, 5, 7, 8, 5, 6, 8, 10, 9, 1, 10, 7, 1, 9] was rolled for 17 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((... I think we can safely say his heart is fixed.))  
> 

Exhaling harshly, she nodded and mouthed 'one more' to Emeli Piercing Sun- the old man's eyes reflected the light of her anima, and the heat and power spilling off her body sent the folds of her gown fluttering in the warm air. More needles, more enchanted diagrams. She improvised an outline across the lines of his taut serratus muscles, and laid a hand flat on his chest. She felt his heartbeat, once, twice- his lungs would clear-"

>   
>  Inks: !ex 16 +5; Inks: [2, 4, 4, 10, 10, 9, 2, 5, 3, 9, 6, 4, 7, 5, 7, 1] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
> 

"Done!" And Inks slumped back, if not unconscious, then on her way.

>   
>  ST: ((What's she flaring at, now?))  
>  Inks: (Anima/totemic, I went full bore)  
>  Inks: (Her sta+res is 5, so she could have gone 5 hours at full bore before feeling penalties, but Inks is still tiiiired)  
> 

The beauty sagged backwards, her legs buckling as she fell. Her beast moved forward to catch her - but she was caught before it got there.

Weight balanced on his left leg, Elemi Piercing Sun glanced towards his staff. One hand twitched. But then his weatherbeaten brow furrowed in contemplation as his attention turned inward. Gingerly, delicately, he shifted his weight as he set her down on the bench. 

His right leg held. He straightened. His eyes flashed with fire, and the ash-white hair atop his head rippled with heatwaves and burst into seeming flame as spark-like embers drifted around him. 

"Hah," he coughed, feeling the scars of long abuse knitting together, old strength returning to maimed limbs, long-loathed weakness absent despite his exertion of essence. He swayed - but steadied himself alone, before anyone reached him to help. 

"When you go, tell those proud princes on their peaks," he husked, "that the Dragon of the Burning Sands has back his wings." 

And his grin was savage.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice)  
>  ST: ((And with that, and you now being basically ready to set off, I think we can call the session.))  
>  ST: ((Next week, TRAVEL RULES!))  
>  Inks: (Nice)  
>  XP?  
>  5xp + 1mxp + 2sxp for exploiting Downcast Plaza  
>  yay  
> 


	27. Session 27: On the road to Coxati, and Saudrai Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth!

Gem slept, oblivious to the furor that was going to hit it over the next few days and weeks as the Sand Dragon flexed his wings once more. But in a luxurious townhouse in Eighth Scorpion, the person responsible for the coming chaos was already up and making preparations to leave.

* * *

>   
>  ST: ((Just to confirm, you're taking Pipera and Maji. Carsa and the other servants?))  
>  ST: ((Also Vahti?))  
>  Inks: (Carsa and the other servants are staying home, I intended to bring Maji, Pipera and Vahti)  
> 

The general mood of the townhouse was not pleased. Vahti was not happy about being pulled out of bed with Inks and Gion at an hour so early it still qualified as late. Maji was even less happy about being interrupted in his main nighttime snooze. And while Pipera seemed fine, Inks was met at the door by Ajjim; a grumpy-looking half-awake Pesala in his arms.

"I've thought a great deal," he said quietly, careful not to rouse his daughter any further. "And if you're still offering a place on the trip, my knowledge might prove useful - and it might do Pesala good, to come along. I fear she wouldn't take your leaving well."

Inks smiled softly, sipping her tea and quietly ushering them in. Her staff were carefully and quietly making arrangements, while she stood as an island of calm amidst all the furor. Her main contribution that morning had been breakfast. "I'm glad." She cast around for Pipera, and asked her what else was left to be done before leaving.

Pipera looked up from shooing off a pair of message-runners and waved at the giant tiger and flame duck, who seemed to be squabbling. "Get _these two_ ," she said, "and everyone else from the townhouse, to the caravan in Scartoll. And then stay there, without getting kidnapped or turning any more political arenas on their heads." She smirked. "Can you do that, Miss Inks, or should I send an escort?"

"Snarky, snarky~" Inks sang, laughing lightly. "You're coming too, so don't be late." She resolved to send Suleiman an Infallible Messenger once they were on the road a bit. Turning on one heel, she called for Maji and Vahti to stay at her side. Once they had something to focus on other than each other, their little spat was at the moment set aside.

From there, Inks had a quite word with her growing entourage. Of her immediate friends and allies, her tiger, Vahti, ruins explorer and tiger-daughter were all joining her. She quietly offered to take Pesala in arm to give Ajjim a break, and expressed her perfect balance, ensuring the girl slept as long as she could.

"Maji," She whispered, smiling. "Guard us as we move, quietly." The tiger fixed her with a Look that spoke volumes, but agreed with the lethargic power and loyalty only a big cat could muster. Dressed for travel, the group headed for Scartoll. The rest of their supplies were waiting at the caravan.

* * *

The caravan was already mostly assembled, and the Rangers met them there with Inks' new steed; Windroarer. God-tiger and lion-horse took one look at one another and appeared to spontaneously generate an ancient and bitter grudge, which mostly took the form of quiet scoffing growls and shouldering one another as the various bits of the caravan creaked into motion.

Pipera caught up within half an hour, chivying the last of the stragglers as the final wagon was leashed to its yeddim, and with the light of the Sun still yet to peak over the horizon their group lurched into motion.

* * *

The desert was cold at night. Inks couldn't feel it; kept warm by the priceless gem between her eyes, but Pesala sat swaddled in blankets in front of her on Windroarer. The fur on her ears was fluffed up with what would be goosebumps on a human. Luna shone down on the badlands, painting shadows and silver across the dry landscape, and the Firepeaks were great black shadows to the west.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, let's see.))  
>  ST: ((You're traveling at foot/cart speeds, and you have about 150 miles to go.))  
>  Inks: (So 2 weeks assuming the basic travel rules)  
>  ST: ((Going by corebook pg 266, the terrain type is open and you've got trails but no highways until you hit the mountains, and you're using yeddim-caravans, so you get a +1/4 movement speed for the first half of the journey. So it's more like 5 days for that. Did you pack enough food for Maji? Note that this is a non-trivial amount and will take up some space.))  
>  Inks: (It hadn't occurred to me to do so- Logically Inks would have thought of that though.... Should I roll to determine or just assume that I did?)  
>  ST: ((You don't need to roll, but you can either have chosen to pack food or decided to just hunt as you go - which means one less wagon to deal with.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... In character terms I think maji would like to hunt more? He's a proud prince, and likes being waited on, but he's still a Tiger.)  
>  Inks: (So we'll say that Inks packed Some food for Maji, just in case there are some bad days.)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. Roll me 6 dice for his hunting to see what he brings back - 2+ is a bunch of small game, 4 is a steady supply of larger animals and on 5 or higher you can have him catch something truly impressive. Then feel free to stunt Inks' trip to the foothills of the Firepeaks as you like.))  
>  Inks: (Does his stone body mutation apply? It grants +4 Survival dice)  
>  Inks: (and/or his Wits excellency?)  
>  ST: ((He can use his Wits Excellency, but I believe the Stone Body mutation is more the "enduring hardship" bits of Survival than "hunting game". What's the exact text of it?))  
>  Inks: (... I don't know anymore, it gave soak and survival dice, but I can't remember where I found it, what book)  
>  Inks: (Anyway, I'll take the wits excellency for 9d total)  
>  Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [10, 1, 7, 6, 8, 2, 7, 9, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.  
>  ST: ((No for now, then. Most animals native to the US badlands or places like the kalahari desert can potentially be found in this area, btw.))  
>  ST: ((... stunt as you like. Sigh. Maji, wtf did you just drag back to the caravan?))  
>  Inks: (Kek)  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((... yeddim are native to the southeast, and have been spread all over Creation. Wild ones exist.))  
>  Inks: (kek)  
>  ST: ((And predators will totally go after a young _elephant_... sigh.))  
> 

* * *

Days passed, in which Inks spent no small amount of time just enjoying the scenery, talking with Pesala, and laughing in fits and starts as Maji prowled around. On the third day, punctuated by a deafening roar that shook the slowly nearing foothills, Maji returned from a successful hunt... hauling most of a Yeddim back to the caravan. The crew ate heartily, after some careful and expert field dressing, and Maji sat proudly, basking in the proof of his prowess.

After a day or two more travel, the caravan approached the foothills, watching them rise in low, rolling crags before shooting up into the towering jagged cones of the Firepeaks. While the caravan made camp, Inks took the time to walk a ways away with Maji and send an Infallible Messenger to Sulieman, as promised. Explaining her absence, she laid out her itinerary and told him she'd be back as soon as possible, and that she'd left instructions with her holdings to make strong deals with his company.

The message and Maji sent, Inks headed back to see the fire going strong, Vahti cheering proudly as she invoked her own power to set the kindling alight and luxuriated in the flame.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (We are now at the foothills)  
>  ST: ((This is Difficult terrain, meaning your mounts and carts go at half speed. So ten more days travel.))  
> 

* * *

From now on it was uphill, and their pace would slow to half the speed they'd managed on the open plains. Their path diverged from the route Inks had taken to El Galabi - what seemed like ages ago now - and they made for the mountain pass known as the Giant's Fingers.

It was three days before they reached it, but Inks could see why it had the name by early morning on the second. Some combination of wind, water and perhaps even the works of man had carved steep gouges into the sides of a valley that cut between two impassable rises, and left great pillars of harder stone jutting up from the cliff-tops. They threw bars of light and shade down onto the base of the pass as the sun shone through them, and it felt much like being ants walking between two enormous palms.

They were almost through when disaster struck. As the last of the four wagons was being heaved past a particularly steep bit of hill, a rippling shudder went through the ground. Seconds later, a rumbling roar split the air - an eruption, miles away but still as loud as a hollered shout in the valley.

That wasn't the problem, though.

The problem was the approaching clatter of falling stone.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Oh dang, stunting)  
>  ST: ((So! Sudden landslide from one of the walls of the pass! Dex+Athletics at Diff 3 for Inks to avoid getting hit by any flying stone - but she has the caravan to think about.))  
>  Inks: (Thinking. So we're in like a really deep valley/gorge/ravine, with tall walls, and then there are big towers of rock that look like fingers at the edge? OR is this more a V shaped valley?)  
>  ST: ((It's slightly wider at the bottom, with tall walls and finger-like rock towers. The whole valley has a fairly steep incline, but it's basically the shallowest and most cart-friendly slope along this bit of the foothills-to-mountains area, and thus the best way to gain altitude and get up into the higher territories.))  
>  ST: ((You're probably looking at, mm, 60 yards wide or so at the top, widening down to about twice that at the bottom.))  
>  Inks: (Legit, just trying to get a picture... That helps lots, thanks)  
> 

Inks's eyes flicked left, right, up. The rocks were approaching with every passing moment, but she could handle this- There, along the wall, she eyed the rock face with an architect's gaze and judged it then and there.

>   
>  Inks: (Wits+Aware + Cats Eye style to look for a strong section of wall to huddle against)  
>  Inks: (Clarify- is the landslide coming down towards us along the slope, or from above?)  
>  ST: ((Coming from one side of the slope a bit above you. Diff 2 to find a spot out of the boulders' range.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [6, 3, 8, 1, 9, 9, 3, 10] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: (Let's see what Inks finds, and then I'll stunt/roll getting everyone secure)  
> 

Yes, Inks saw. Over there. The rocks were mostly coming from above and the left - over on the right of the pass there was an outcrop from the valley floor that was out of the path of most of the rocks, and which should shelter them from any stray flyaways. But could she get everyone there in time?

>   
>  ST: ((Dex+Ath at Diff 3 to get there herself. However, it's... hmm. What's the appropriate roll for getting the wagons moving? She's directing them on where to go rather than riding them herself (without a stunt), so... I guess Charisma+Presence? Bah, Command would be perfect here. Fine, Cha+Pres to coordinate them, at a -2 external penalty for their slow movement speed. Getting one out of the way is Diff 3 - but it's an extra +1 Diff for each subsequent wagon.))  
>  Inks: (Got it, stunting)  
> 

The caravans were all drawn by individual pack animals- Inks hopped astride Windroarer behind Pesala, and called out to Pipera and Vahti. "Lash the wagons together!" She was no great rider- Pesala was in fact better at it than she was, but that was fine, the Simhata was so finely trained that it hardly mattered. "Maji!" She leaned down from the saddle, one leg hooked around a strap and somehow defying any sane riding posture, perfect balance ensuring swift action -

She scooped up the lines from the lead wagon, pulling out some slack and tossing the ends to her tiger, who caught them in his teeth with an understanding grunt. "Pull! Everyone pull in to the alcove!" She pointed, and hurried to move the crew to safety. Maji pulled, hauling hard and muscles buldging beneath his fur, as the lashed-together caravan moved onward!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay, so cha+pres, bonus dice for invoking all these cool and awesome people and/or stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, there are a bunch of smart, skilled people here, so I'll give you the +3. And +2 stunt.))  
>  Inks: !ex 19; Inks: [5, 8, 1, 6, 2, 4, 5, 4, 6, 9, 2, 9, 10, 4, 10, 1, 5, 8, 2] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  Inks: (Ah,forgot the -2 external penalty. So 6 successes total)  
> 

It was close. It was terrifyingly close. Boulders bounced around the wagons; gravel raised stinging welts on arms and ribs. Fist-sized chunks of stone left gashes and dents in the wooden sides of the carts, and she heard at least one snarl from Maji as something ricocheted off him with an audible clang.

But somehow, the largest of the tumbling chunks never _quite_ landed on a precious cartload of goods. The yeddim bellowed in fear, but they didn't stampede. Under Inks' rapid-fire stream of orders, people moved as one - merchants worked alongside rangers and wagon-drivers to lash the carts together and move as she directed. When she screamed to stop, they stopped - just in time for a boulder as big as Maji to tumble past; inches from their yeddim's nose. When she yelled to speed up, men jumped out and pushed with all their might to avoid the death that threw up dust as it crashed past their heels.

With all four wagons clustered behind the outcrop, there was nothing to do but wait for the rain of stone to be over. It took almost a minute more of cowering there, listening to Pesala's whimpers each time a particularly large boulder crashed downhill, but eventually the Fingers' heights seemed to run out of things to throw down at them.

Shakily, whispering to each other in awe and slightly hysterical relief that they were alive, Inks' caravan edged back out from their hiding spot. Not quite unharmed - but whole.

Inks exhaled softly and made a point of giving everyone a quick examination, feeling the fear drain away in favor of that 'I just survived!' exhilaration. Cuts and scrapes were tended to, and when she was done, Inks threw her arms around both Ajjim and Pesala. From that point on, she made sure there was always a lookout keeping abreast of the volcanos and the somewhat treacherous rocks. Ajjim proved to be most useful there.

Idly, Inks considered how to reinforce or otherwise improve the land route to Coxati, but that was a project for another day. Once the caravan had calmed down, they carefully eased their way forward.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((I'd say you've probably lost the deposit on those wagons from the sides getting dented, but that's what Solar Craft is for. :P)  
>  ST: ((... hmm. Int+War, Diff 2.))  
>  ST: ((For an observation about that subject.))  
>  Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [4, 9, 7, 10, 5] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

It did occur to her, as she rolled the problem around in her head... the Giant's Fingers was, from what she'd been told, one of the only good routes for getting up to the high mountain territories around this region. Certainly, it was the _best_ route. And those great pillars of stone...

... yes, Inks concluded. If someone had a way to break those and collapse them into the pass, not only could they wipe out more or less any force trying to move through it, they'd also probably render it impassable to any large or mounted force. Certainly impassable without weeks of work to clear the rocks away. And the Coxati almost certainly knew that.

Something to keep in mind, she decided, and pressed onwards. The heights were colder than the desert plains had been, and saw less in the way of game - though Maji still brought in the odd mountain goat. They wound their way along ridges and around the flanks of mountains, the route sometimes brushing close enough to cliff edges to see hundreds of yards down into the valleys below.

This wasn't Coxati territory, exactly, but the valleys already showed signs of life - both plants taking advantage of the shade and rich soil to flourish, and small settlements of clustered huts. The little villages grew larger as they moved closer towards the strongholds of the mountain lords, and Inks sometimes saw fires burning down far below, or heard snatches of song drift up on the wind.

* * *

Two days away from _Saudari_ Etiyadi's capital, they heard another sound. An unearthly wailing; a ghostly screaming dirge that carried unnaturally well on the wind. It came not from any valley, though, but from ahead.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks can go see what it is, or add a day to her journey to detour around it.))  
>  ST: ((The latter means leaving the generally-trodden trail for a less-used one.))  
>  ST: ((... she might be able to come up with a third choice too, though I dunno what that would be. Fly over it? :P))  
> 

Inks whistled softly, and decided to hold her caravan back, before bidding Maji and Pipera to join her. "Next time I do this, I should summon some bodyguard demons..."

She hummed. "Let's go see what this is, before we take the rest of the group."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Basically Maji, Pipera and Inks will investigate the screaming)  
>  ST: ((Is she riding Windroarer?))  
>  ST: ((Or going on foot?))  
>  Inks: (Riding sounds good)  
> 

Windroarer strutted forward with the brash confidence of a war steed not put off by mere inhuman wailing on the wind, with Maji competing with him for casual disinterested arrogance. Pipera, trotting beside the pair on a mare, rolled her eyes at both of them.

The first ten minutes ride brought no surprises as the downhill slope of the mountain-flank they were riding around transitioned to a sheer drop. But as the ledge began to narrow, Maji scented the air and began to snarl. The sound of hooves echoed in the near distance, getting closer rapidly.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((They're on a wide ledge with a steep slope on the uphill side and a sheer drop on the other. And what sounds like several sets of hooves are moving pretty fast towards them.))  
> 

Inks frowned for a moment, considering, before reaching down and pulling Pipera onto the saddle behind her. "Get ready to hold on." She then whispered to Windroarer, trusting him to follow her instructions if need be.

>   
>  Inks: (The plan is to wait until the hooves get close enough to see them, and then if they look Unfriendly, turn and run)  
> 

The hoofbeats neared... and then around the curve of the mountainside thundered half a dozen giant goats; large enough to ride, with saddles and bits. They were riderless, and two of them were bleeding; bright blood staining the white patches on their coats. They were also moving at a full gallop; the whites of their eyes showing in their panic, and seemed to have no intention of stopping or slowing down.

Inks let out a wordless shout of surprise, before coming to a quick solution. Windroarer and Maji turned, fantastically agile despite the narrow pass. The tiger bounded up the cliff face, away from the stampede, while Inks and Pipera scampered off straight ahead.

Standing on the saddle, she raised her fingers to her lips and whistled, shrill and powerful over the bleating panic of the goats. "Whoa! Calm yourselves!" Her voice carried, soothing but loud enough to be heard.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Cha+Pres Stunt + Graceful Crane + Friendship With Animals + Presence Excellency to calm the goats down)  
>  ST: ((Haha, I'd forgotten you had FWA. Diff 4 to calm them down, with a +2 external penalty she can roll Wits+Occult to try and guess the source of.))  
>  Inks: (stunt value?)  
>  Inks: !ex 14 +1 -2; Inks: [5, 10, 8, 10, 10, 5, 6, 3, 8, 6, 7, 9, 3, 6] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((... honestly, I think this qualifies for a 3-dot, since as far as I can tell she's staying right in the path of the stampede))  
>  Inks: (Running ahead of it yes, Windroarer is likely faster than the goats)  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [3, 10, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
>  Inks: (So 12 successes)  
> 

Inks' voice cut through the goats' panic like a ray of sunlight through stormclouds. It struck them almost as a physical blow, clearing the blind terror from their eyes and restoring their senses.

It didn't do anything to actually physically slow them down, of course, and so the next thirty seconds or so involved a lot of pounding hooves, frightened bleating and one very close call with the cliff edge as they came to a stop. Windroarer trotted off the excess momentum once they'd milled to a halt, growling angrily about being told to _run_ like a _coward_ from a bunch of _prey_.

The goats were clearly not much happier about his presence than he was. The unthinking terror-impulse that had gripped them was gone, but they were still scared - their flanks heaving, their hooves shifting restlessly, their eyes rolling - and when Maji crept down from the slope again with the liquid grace of a killing machine, it made it even worse.

Inks sent Maji back to the caravan, and asked if Pipera could send a message back to Ajjim and the others explaining the situation. Dismounting from Windroarer, she gave the Simhata an apologetic scratch before addressing the herd. She soothed them with soft words, tending their scratches and connecting with them in a way only her unique magic could.

Scratching behind the ears and horns of one such goat, she hummed. "Where are you all from..." She examined their saddles and harnesses, looking for clues as to their origin or owners.

"You know," said Pipera patiently as Inks worked. "Where I grew up - admittedly not on land, but still - we were taught that when a group of large, powerful animals is moving very fast towards you; the wise thing to do is to get out of the way. Not stay there and try to reason with them. Are things done differently in Nexus?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Per+Lore, Diff 2. Did she/is she making that Wits+Occult roll?))  
>  Inks: (I did not make the occult roll yet)  
>  Inks: !ex 8 -2 "Occult"; Inks: [6, 1, 2, 3, 1, 8, 4, 9] was rolled for 0 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (...Botch!)  
>  ST: ((Inks has no idea why they were unusually hard to calm down.))  
>  Inks: (oh wait, I have wits 2)  
>  Inks: !ex 1; Inks: [2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  Inks: (Still a botch,)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "PerLore"; Inks: [4, 8, 8, 6, 4, 6, 5, 6, 2, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((... haha, actually.))  
>  ST: ((I'll tell you the result of that botch - Inks missed the external penalty altogether. She didn't notice they were unusually terrified.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

The bridles and saddles are pretty distinctive - these are Coxati animals. Inks isn't familiar enough with the iconography to tell which lord they belong to, but they're probably the steeds of enforcers or soldiers, going by the design. Which makes it a little concerning that something scared them enough to make them stampede - military animals are normally trained to be braver than most, like Maji or Windroarer.

Carefully herding the goats into line and back towards the caravan, Inks turned to Pipera. "Do you have any contacts in Coxati that could take these off our hands? They belong to someone."

Pipera was frowning, her head tilted with her eyes closed. "I think someone is on their way," she said slowly. "I think I hear shouting from up ahead - you've got better ears, though."

"I doubt that." Inks still turned her head to the approaching sounds, waiting.  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [3, 9, 4, 10, 10, 6, 4, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: (Per+awa)  
>  ST: ((She actually does, lol. At least as far as Per+Awa pools go. Pipera has to specify an individual for the winds to carry their voice to her; she can't cheat and have the wind help with general hearing rolls.))  
> 

Pipera was right. There _was_ shouting. Terrified-sounding shouting, along with... two... three sets of footsteps. And metal. Soldiers, then; probably lagging behind their steeds.

"Okay that sounds heartening... Let's just wait." She made sure to stand near Windroarer though, in case she needed to make a quick getaway. It didn't take long for the soldiers to arrive.

Much like the goats, the soldiers came around the bend at a dead run. Unlike the goats, they retained enough reason for basic thought to be possible.  
Unfortunately, the only thoughts they seemed to have upon seeing Inks, Pipera and the goats were violent.

"Get away from the goats! Get _away!_ " screamed one, pulling his sword free as they pounded towards them. They were entirely focused on the mounts; Inks and Pipera merely obstacles. They seemed scared enough not to even have taken in any details about the people in their way.

"Bwha?" Inks leaped onto Windroarer's back and urge the Simhata to scale the cliff face, getting out of the way of the soldiers and the much calmer goats. From on high, she shouted down, while Pipera tried to stay on the saddle. "What's going on!?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Is she trying to reason with them, or just letting them take the goats and continue running away from whatever they're running away from?))  
>  Inks: (Bit of both. I'm trying to understand if they're Attacking the goats or not, for one.)  
>  ST: ((No, Inks is pretty sure they want the goats in order to move faster. They're as scared as the goats were, they just retain enough thought for things like "I can run away faster if I'm mounted".))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, 'get away from the goats' implied that they were a threat or needed to be attacked. I would've expected something more like 'the goats are here, mount up and ride!')  
>  ST: ((They are scared enough that someone standing next to their escape route is an enemy. :P))  
> 

Hiking alongside the rougher path, Inks and Pipera watched the terrified soldiers mount up and race onward, away from whatever scared them so badly. She called down to the apparent leader, a wild-eyed man with a more ornate helmet compared to his fellows, and a broken bannerpole trailing tatters. "Hey! What's happening!" She did her best to make it clear she wasn't in their way, staying off the main path all the while.

>   
>  ST: ((Hmm. Cha+Pres to get their attention at all; Diff 6. Same -2 external penalty as the goats. She... yeah, okay, I'll let her roll again to notice and assess it.))  
>  Inks: (Clarifying, the penalty is on the occult roll, not the pres roll?)  
>  ST: ((Penalty is on the presence roll, same as how it was hard to calm the goats down.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
>  ST: ((Wits+Occult to notice they're unusually hard to calm down and guess at why.))  
>  Inks: !ex 16 -2; Inks: [10, 2, 2, 7, 3, 6, 6, 2, 8, 6, 8, 8, 8, 5, 6, 1] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "wits+occult"; Inks: [2, 2, 2, 1, 8, 2, 8, 6, 10, 4] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  Inks: (So no dice on getting the soldiers to talk, but I can better glean the fear effect)  
> 

The men ignored her. More than that, they didn't even seem to *hear* her once she was out of the way, rushing up to the goats and almost slamming into them as they pulled themselves onto the saddles. Inks stared. That kind of blind- no, not blind, but that *blinkered* terror; that wasn't natural. Quite apart from anything else, she was a stunning gorgeous beauty riding a simhata; even from scared men with no time for sex appeal she should at least have /drawn the gaze/ as something unusual and eye-catching.

But she hadn't. They'd seen her only as an obstacle to their escape. Something had them so terrified - so caught in lingering fear - that their only overriding urge was to _get away_.

Inks added two and two together, and smelt magic on the air. Whatever had happened to these men, it had gotten into their heads in a way nothing mortal could.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((I might remind you that, uh, if they ride off in a state of great panic at high speed, they'll be going towards your caravan. And also Maji. In a panic-state where they only see people as obstacles to them fleeing.))  
>  Inks: (I noticed)  
> 

"Oh well this isn't good." Inks grabbed the reins and urged Windroarer faster. "Hold on Pipera!" And they rushed for their camp!

>   
>  ST: ((Yay! Dex+Ride to beat them back. +2 from Windroarer being GUD STEED.))  
>  ST: ((Contested Diff.))  
>  Inks: (I have no ride dots, sooooo...)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  Inks: (Channeling my last Conviction); !ex 9; Inks: [5, 10, 10, 5, 10, 9, 2, 7, 9] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> 

Inks was not a particularly good rider. She knew this, and accepted it. But these men... these men were _terrible_. They didn't seem to be skilled riders to start with - probably not much better than her - and they were were so consumed with fear that even that basic level of skill had deserted them. One of them actually fell from his mount as she watched, and was left scrabbling forward on his hands and knees as his mount kept bounding forward; freshly terrified by the urgency of its rider.

>   
>  ST: ((So, uh.))  
>  ST: ((They were rolling Dex 2 + Ride 1 + 1 WP - 1 external penalty from fear))  
>  ST: ((Aaaaand they botched.))  
>  Inks: (Dang)  
>  ST: ((lol))  
>  ST: ((round them up as you like))  
>  Inks: (So they're in a position to be calmed down?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, she can try again - and they're easier to bring around now that they're bruised and groaning from falling off high-speed goats; Diff 4 with a -1 penalty.))  
>  Inks: !ex 14 -1; Inks: [1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 3, 10, 10, 8, 5, 3, 4, 8, 5] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Stunt rounding them up and slapping some sense back into them as you like. Also maybe send Pipera to grab those goats before they get away.))  
>  ST: ((Otherwise Maji will probably get them. :P))  
>  ST: ((... tbh this was probably why the goats were riderless in the first place))  
>  ST: ((:P))  
> 

Inks's urgency and drive to excel served her well, enough that she was able to both beat the riders out and put herself in a position to quell their fear and bring them back to her caravan. Pipera took it upon herself to corral the goats, which fortunately did not take long.

They were between settlements, so in her absence, the crew had made camp while Maji prowled fitfully. He perked up when the goats rounded the pass, but sighed moroesly when he saw their riders and his mistress. After all was said and done, she sat the soldiers down by the fire, put calming tea in their hands and all but collapsed against Maji's side. Vahti was there a moment later, pressing against her side.

Finally, once the fear had ebbed, Inks called out to the apparent leader of the soldiers. "Are you okay now?"

Shakily, he nodded. Then paused to consider, and shook his head. "C-calmer," he said hoarsely in an odd, lilting accent. "But 'okay'? H-hah. No."  
"Can you tell me what happened? Anything at all."

He shuddered. "It... we were on p-patrol. For- for screamer cultists. We'd g-got word of a gathering. Didn't think... it was meant to be... *fuck*." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, a few tears escaping.

"It was s'posed to be easy," he whispered. "They were just screamers, we had them penned in... but then the _shrieking_ started; that wail on the wind, and... and..."  
He curled up and hugged his knees, shuddering. That seemed to be about all he could bring himself to say for the moment.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll 6 dice for me quickly?))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [10, 3, 10, 2, 9, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

A rumble came from Maji, and his mind brushed hers with the tiger-sharp shape of his senses. The stink of terror and horror pouring off the men was clear, but there was another scent, borne on the wind still blowing from the direction they'd come.

Blood. Lots and lots and *lots* of human blood.

Inks turned to Pipera. "Do you know what screamer cultists are?"

Pipera frowned, her eyes going faraway for a moment. "A mountain cult, I think," she said clinically. "Screamers, or shriekers - sometimes wailers. Generally suppressed by the Coxati lords; they've got the death penalty in a lot of of domains up here. I've never encountered them myself, only heard things second-hand."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Brushed Sand mentioned them to Inks last session, she can recall.))  
> 

"Lovely..." She frowned, wanting to investigate the matter, but she had Dependants to take care of. "We'll report it once we reach the Coxati lands directly. Everyone should get some rest, we'll move out tomorrow."

Having said that, she arranged for night watches, just in case.

* * *

Nothing came out of the night to attack them, though the second shift reported that the eerie wailing had been heard again, much fainter and further to the south, a little after midnight.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Will Inks keep to the same path, which may go past the remains of whatever battle occurred?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. No, she'll avoid it.)  
> 

The next day saw them backtrack a little and change routes, adding a day to their journey to take a lesser-used road around the site of whatever battle had occurred. The three survivors seemed grateful for this - honestly, Inks suspected they'd have broken and run if they'd been made to go back - and had unclammed enough over the night to share their loyalties; outrider soldiers of Lord Pangasutri White-Eyes.

>   
>  ST: ((Int+Survival to lead the caravan along the new route, Diff 2))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [7, 8, 5, 6, 1, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((Nice))  
> 

The alternate route involved a bit more uphill and downhill slogging - which was probably why it wasn't used as much - but Inks got them through it without too much issue. It definitely helped to be able to patch up the wagons as needed on the journey. Three days later, the cracked peaks opened up onto a huge valley - far larger than any of the ones she'd seen early in their highland journey - and the rough trails transitioned to a paved granite path that led around the valley's circumference to the intimidating black-sloped volcano at the far end.

It was a towering thing; the largest she'd seen yet, whose crown held a red-orange glow and whose flanks almost looked like the stern angles of a man sitting in seiza. And at its base, where the gentle slope of its lap met the richly farmed soil of the valley, there was a city.

"The domain of Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth," Pipera announced. There was satisfaction in her voice, but no trace of awe or wonder. "We're here."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((... I should add, Rankar Peak beats this one for size. But it's the largest she's seen in the Firepeaks so far.))  
> 

Inks however was awed enough for both of them, and Vahti even moreso. With civilization in plain view, morale and energy trickled back into her caravan crew, and as one they moved onward towards the city. They passed idyllic farms and farmhands, and more than a few stopped to gawk at the tattooed beauty, her simhata mount or the giant tiger that prowled alongside her.

Looking around, she wondered if there was a hostel or similar, or if it'd be better to present herself to Saudari Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth and her court immediately... She consulted Pipera on that as she mulled.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Int+Socialize to check what's the better play)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Diff 2, roll it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [5, 2, 9, 4, 8, 4, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((Yeah, best to go present herself to the court early on))  
> 

Trusting Ajjim to handle the particulars of the caravan, Inks and Pipera moved ahead, asking for directions to the lord's palace. The paved streets were heaven compared to the rough trails of previous days, and they made good time. When the guards and servants at the palace door stopped her, Inks introduced herself with a grand smile and cocked hip. "I am Inks, trade representative of Gem, here to meet with Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth and her court."

>   
>  ST: ((Per+Awareness :P))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [10, 4, 4, 3, 9, 4, 10, 3, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

She heard the whispering and murmurs start. Her name was recognized here - and not just for the mask she'd sent, it seemed. She caught the words "Gem's Painted Beauty" thrown by someone in an undertone. And, perhaps more worryingly, "Sand Dragon's Handmaid".

A runner was sent into the palace as she eavesdropped surreptitiously, and returned quickly with a message. Inks and her immediate retinue were to be allowed in. The rest of her caravan would be led to accommodations and stabling.

This palace wasn't nearly as grand as the Despot's - and seemed to have been carved out of, or perhaps into, the volcano's lowest slopes. From the way it sank back into the hillside, Inks rather suspect there were lava tubes connected to it, just like in Gem - except this mountain was active.

An execution seemed to be underway in one of the inner courtyards; a small group of white-robed men and women standing stubborn and defiant as they were one-by-one led up to the block and sabre. Each time the sword fell, the living comrades gave a low, undulating wail. These, then, were presumably shrieker cultists.

> Inks: !ex 3 "Compassion"; Inks: [3, 8, 2] was rolled for 1 success.

Catching the eye of a nearby servant, Inks quietly asked what their crime was. She winced when the next prisoner marched up to the block. 

She received a blank stare. "They're _shriekers_ ," the woman whispered, making a sign in the air with one hand - an open-bottomed triangle with a jagged line over the top. "They sacrifice infants to the moon. Blight crops. Bathe in the blood of birds." She shudders. "It's death to follow their heresy."

Inks frowned, but nodded slowly. Putting the execution out of her mind for the moment, Inks and Pipera were quietly courted and waited on as guests until Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth was prepared to receive them.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (That reminds me, since we had 15 or so days downtime, I completely forgot to mention it, can Inks have trained anything up?)  
>  ST: ((Depends - what do you want to have trained? Also, uh, you no doubt guessed, but Inks detected a tiny bit of "uneducated superstition" around those claims. :P))  
>  Inks: (Socialize dots, primarily, and maybe a socialize Charm. Socialize 3 and Mastery of Small Manners)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Untutored training time, then, since there's no way to really train that on the road.))  
>  Inks: (Pipera has more socialize dots than Inks does though, yes?)  
>  ST: ((... yes, true. Okay, fair enough. Valid.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so 5 days to hit Socialize 3, and 4 days to learn MoSM, 12xp total)  
>  Inks: (Correction, 14xp, socialize is unfavored)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Training times do assume you're doing nothing else and training 8 hours a day. So... mm. Alright, I'll allow that, given that you have 15, as long as it took the whole trip.))  
>  Inks: (Got it. You can stop for a month between 'training montages' too)  
>  Inks: (anyway, dots are dotted!)  
> 

* * *

The doors to the Saudari's throne room are opened, and a wave of heat rolls out. Squinting her eyes against the furnace-blast of hot air, Inks peers in at the large room of granite and obsidian and sluggishly... moving... dark...

...

... did this woman seriously have a channel of _actual flowing lava_ along the far end of her throne room?

Yes. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that she did, indeed, have a channel of actual flowing lava along the far end of her throne room. It looked a little like the sort of stone channel an artificial river water feature might trickle along in a normal house, but the liquid within it had a dark crust of semi-molten stone and a dull orange-red glow peeking through the cracks.

The saudari herself seemed entirely unbothered by the heat, sitting primly on a short-backed throne of obsidian. Her skin was lighter than the average inhabitant of Gem, and her eyes slanted in a way Inks had never seen before, but she was attractive in the way that spoke of recent divine ancestry.

Her hair - exactly the same shade as the molten rock showing through cracks in the crust - was bound up into twin ponytails, and she wore enough jewelery and golden skin paint to make Inks feel vaguely under dressed.

Her smile was quick, sharp and assessing as she looked Inks over and sniffed. "So," she said. "You're Gem's Painted Beauty. Tell me, Lady Inks - are we friends, or enemies?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((And I think wrap up with that hanging, if you don't mind.))  
>  Inks: (Sounds great to me.)  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  ST: 5xp+1mxp  
>  Inks: that was pretty fun. I'm glad we're back, and I hope we can have some regular sessions  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  ST: Happy with the action bits?  
>  ST: anything you found interesting or wanted to mention?  
>  ST: You derailed my planned combat scene *pouts*  
>  ST: : P  
>  Inks: I noticed, but I had Dependants- and you can always do another one later  
>  ST: Oh, I'm not bothered  
>  ST: I was happy re action though! ST: You're getting more confident which is showing. There's like... minor execution things, but that comes with experience  
>  ST: But I legit expected you to leap out of the way of the goats, and then have to fight the soldiers who'd try to take _your_ mounts  
>  ST: and then you just  
>  ST: were like  
>  ST: "GOATS!"  
>  ST: "HALT!"  
>  ST: and I was like "... I did not expect that, but am entirely happy to roll with it."  
>  Inks: Ahh, I thought you were thinking of me going after the shriekers  
>  ST: Heh.  
>  Inks: I kinda wanted to, but I thought about it and realized Inks's character just isn't all about Looking for a fight  
>  ST: No, I had plans for if you went around or if you went to investigate  
>  ST: I guessed you might not want to get involved  
>  Inks: I as a player am _interested_ in a fight happening, but... yeah  
>  Inks: I was very happy with the avalanche, though  
>  Inks: and the Giant's Fingers in general  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  Inks: That actually I think needed a touch of polish- the main thing was  
>  Inks: I didn't know what anything LOOKED like  
>  ST: hmm  
>  Inks: As in, like, mm  
>  Inks:you tend to... assume i know what everything is, so I Have to ask where it's coming from or try to assume/stunt in features  
>  ST: map positions?  
>  ST: Right  
>  ST: will try to do better on that in future  
>  Inks: aye. IT's a game design/communication feature  
>  Inks: because like, in writing, you can describe an arid, blasted desert  
>  Inks: and the reader will fill in the details  
>  Inks: but for a game, it helps to have more concrete information like 'the rocks are coming down from you almost directly overhead'  
>  ST: Yeah.  
>  ST: Gotcha  
> 


	28. Session 28: Etiyadi-Land of Coxati, Goddaughter Elite

"So," says Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth from her obsidian throne. "You're Gem's Painted Beauty. Tell me, Lady Inks - are we friends, or enemies?"

Inks took a shallow, calming breath, before summoning up a reserve of charm and grace that put truth to her reputation as Beauty. Her hips rocked, and even her traveling dress was cut to emphasize her legs. The courtiers parted before her stride and she favored them all with a bright shining smile.

Coming to a halt halfway across the chamber with Pipera at her shadow, Inks sketched a charming bow before standing tall. "I would like to be seen as friend- and I bring business to prove it!"

The woman - the godsdaughter, rather; no mortal woman is that beautiful - makes a little high-pitched "hmph" sound, flicking her hair and setting the lava-shaded streamers swaying. Several courtiers wince.

"You bring business to my lands and send gifts to my palace. Those are the actions of a friend," she says thoughtfully. "But... on the other hand, they say you healed the Dragon of the Burning Sands, and consort with demons." She taps her chin theatrically. "Those are the deeds of an enemy. I reward my friends, but I sacrifice my enemies to my father. Which one are you?"

"Oh!" Inks laughed, low and warm. "I treated Elemi Piercing Sun to help fund this expedition, and I'm very aware of his reputation now. I'm making myself responsible for curbing some of his excesses, but I simply don't like seeing people hurt." She paused, humming.

"I am a demonologist, trained in fine tradition of respecting the creations of Hell and binding them to my will or service. If that is a penalty on our negotiation, I accept it, but do not mistake me for an enthralled cultist or worshiper of the Demon Princes."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll Appearance+Presence for your general presentation to the court as a whole, and Cha+Pres for talking her down.))  
> Inks: (Sexy Stunner Style is a go!, 5 +4 +3 +2 stunt +9 excellency dice for first one)  
> Inks: !ex 23; Inks: [6, 3, 2, 4, 9, 5, 9, 4, 8, 5, 4, 1, 6, 3, 4, 4, 1, 10, 5, 6, 9, 8, 6] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> Inks: (Boooo, but still, not awful)  
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [2, 4, 3, 4, 4, 8, 9, 5, 8, 1, 2, 5, 8, 4, 2, 7, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (Spent 9 and 7m so far peripheral)  
> ST: ((Charisma is personal interaction with other people through the medium of what you are doing and how you're acting.))  
> ST: ((Manipulation is environmental interaction with other people through the medium of setpieces and equipment around them.))  
> ST: ((Appearance/Awe is general interaction with other people through the medium of presentation and bearing.))  
> ST: ((Yes but I just want to talk this through and make sure we're on the same page, and it makes sense to have it in the logs since then you can talk about it in-thread.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> ST: ((So yeah, Inks walking in looking stunning or Maji LOOMING THREATENINGLY or Pipera fading into the background is Appearance. It's basically social rolls made just by existing - passive effects that "hang" and hit everyone, if you like.))  
> Inks: (Basically Charisma is... 'What you're saying, the platform or topic'; MAnipulation is invoking the crowd, the scenery, the mood. Appearance is how look while saying it'.)  
> ST: ((Inks charming a court with flirting and honeyed words or Pesala giving her papi the big sad kitten eyes is Charisma. It's social rolls that are targeted and which you're making active effort and honing your behavior for.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> Inks: (That does overlap a bit with presence as single target and performance as area target, and socialize as 'court/mass')  
> ST: ((And Etiyadi setting up her throne room to be grand and impressive and penalizing for supplicants social pools or Pipera weaving a trap of words in the big folder of documents she brings to a negotiation is Manipulation. It's setting up social effects that act through the environment - though "environment" can for instead mean "the legal case we're both working on".))  
> Inks: (On that note, socialize is almost never rolled, and exists primarily as a mechanical throttle. IF this were a proper court v court scene, Inks would have her Presence capped by her Sociaize score)  
> Inks: (Socialize SHOULD be rolled more than it is, but that's the game for you~)  
> ST: ((TL;DR, Charisma is what _you_ do, Manipulation is what you make the _environment_ do.))  
> ST: ((Hmm. True. In that case feel free to reroll App+Pres with socialize as a cap. :V))  
> ST: ((Actually wait, no))  
> ST: ((you didn't sort the dice so you can just knock some off the end.))  
> ST: ((... which in practice is like 2 dice and 1 success, so still basically the same result.))  
> ST: ((I'll ignore that this time, then, and use it in future.))  
> Inks: (I'd lose 4 dice from each roll, so I got 5 and 4 successes respectively by tha tmetri)  
> Inks: (No worries, we can hash out the full rules later, not that we started with them anyway~ )  
> ST: ((Hmm. Fair enough. You happy with the Cha/Man/App breakdown??))  
> Inks: (I am, we shall practice it until we get it right)  
> ST: ((Excellent. Back to the game, then.))  
> 

Inks' defense did not seem to go down too well with Etiyadi. Her eyes narrowed, and she made the little "hmph!" noise again. "Demons are foul, sinful things," she declares. "Their nature is tainted and their bearing is foul. A host of the sun-goddess should never associate with such things!"

>   
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Occult, Diff 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 5 +1l; Inks: [6, 2, 10, 8, 7] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Belatedly, it occurred to Inks that the daughter of a powerful god might be a little more attuned to Creation than most - and while demons weren't inherently evil, they definitely weren't a natural part of Creation's weave, either.

Her impression on the courtiers seems to have been a little more mixed than the Saudari's irritation. They definitely appreciated her beauty and charm - even if most of them were still more oriented towards their lady than to her - but the talk of demonology seemed to be making them uneasy, and mentioning Elemi Piercing Sun had drawn scowls from many of the older courtiers present.  
  


>   
> Inks: (thinking)  
> ST: ((Inks can try to get a feel for her personality if she chooses))  
> Inks: (How about I use Mastery of Small Manners, which guarantees an automatic read on my target as if I got +3 sux on a 'Read Motivation' action)  
> ST: ((Which would be, hmm... well, Read Motivation is canonically Per+[higher of Investigation or socialize], so here it would probably be the same.))  
> ST: ((Or that! That would work too.))  
> Inks: (Right, but the charm just skips that roll entirely)  
> ST: ((Yes. Okay, you using it?))  
> Inks: (yes, lemme write out how, no roll required though)  
> ST: ((... hmm. It says "as if her player had rolled three successes on a mundane Investigation roll to estimate each person’s motives", but doesn't say "three threshold successes".))  
> Inks: (Yeah, but that's 2e charm design for you. It either means +3 bonus successes, or +3 threshold successes)  
> ST: ((Hmm. I'll take it as the latter in the spirit of Solar "I just pass this roll fuck you" Charm design.))  
> Inks: (note that Inks's app is +1 now plus 'more inclined to receive small favors')  
> ST: ((Yes. Is that your full stunt or are you continuing? You didn't))  
> Inks: (Yeah, just for MosM, sorry, I had a speech in mind, but it wasn't clicking yet)  
> Inks: (Waiting for diagnostic response)  
> 

Inks's poise changed perceptibly, her bearing that much grander, rising to meet Etiyadi's imperious stare with a grey-eyed look of her own.

Returning the Saudari's irate gaze, Inks let her mind tick over what she'd seen of the court so far. The courtiers here were an unusual breed, more dedicated to their lady than Inks might have expected. There was a strong sense of national pride she'd picked up on - most obvious in how they didn't like Piercing Sun, but also a more generalized attitude. Beyond that it was the typical jockeying for position and influence that she'd seen in her parents' flunkies back in Nexus, though there did seem to be two broad camps who were somehow opposed.

The Saudari herself was an interesting one. Quick to anger, certainly - but Inks thought she'd also be quick to cool on minor things. And this did seem to be one. She didn't get the impression from Etiyadi that Inks had done something unforgivable in her eyes, she was just... irked. Expecting a placating response or an apology - her courtiers must be quick to grovel and heavy on the flattery, given her beauty and temper.

What she _wanted_ , in the long term, was harder to figure out. Certainly she was vain and capricious on the surface, but anyone who lived on a volcano knew that the outside wasn't in any way a safe measure of what lay within. What she knew of Etiyadi didn't paint her as a warmonger or someone who clashed much with the other mountain lords in battles - she seemed to want more social means of control. And she was definitely quite strongly opinionated on spiritual matters. Unsurprising, given her parentage.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice, thinking)  
> ST: ((She is a tsundere princess who prides herself on her divine parentage and wants to be honoured for it and respected/praised/admired in general.))  
> ST: ((Oh, notably))  
> ST: ((Inks is pretty sure that her anti-demon opinions are more an outgrowth of her wanting to be admired and proper and basically a conflation of having a high opinion of herself and societal norms being against them, rather than a core belief.))  
> Inks: (Legit)  
> 

"I am a firm believer in the honest sale." Inks moved through the crowd, finding a handsome stone and wood table with a clear spot, she hiked herself up on it, sitting proudly with one tattooed leg crossed over the other. She let her caste mark shine warm in the magma-lit chamber. "I am a Chosen of the Sun. I am a doctor, entrepeneur, architect and artisan. I make the sick well, raise fortunes, palaces and things of beauty."

"I also summon demons, and make nice with old warhawks." She hummed dismissively, like those details didn't matter. Then hopped off the table with disarming grace, before moving closer to Etiyadi's throne. A pair of honor guards near her crossed their wide-headed spears before her, but Inks reached out with a soft hand and nudged past with a wink and touch to the jaw. Etiyadi allowed the intrusion, silent and imperial.

"But most importantly, I am honored and happy to trade and treat with beautiful god-queens." She stood before Etiyadi and her obsidian throne, and then bowed once more- almost kneeling. Deferrent, but by no means submissive, she let her beauty and tattoo speak to her hostess, as much as her words. "Allow me the privledge of working with you, Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth."  
  


>   
> ST: ((She doesn't seem to have the hatred that, say, an Immaculate monk or a survivor of a luminata attack would.))  
> ST: ((Hah. Okay, yeah. Cha+Pres, 3-dot stunt, that's playing really well to her personality.))  
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [6, 8, 3, 7, 1, 7, 5, 6, 9, 6, 3, 4, 1, 8, 9, 8, 9, 10] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> ST: !ex 13; ST: [9, 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 3, 10, 10, 2, 6, 3, 5] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

The spark of fire in the Saudari's eyes - literally; Inks could see a reddish glimmer in the deep brown from this close - faded. Etiyadi kept her chin high, looking down her nose at Inks, but she wasn't quite good enough to fool the sharp-eyed Solar. She was charmed, appeased - and attracted.

Nevertheless, she made a very good show of huffing haughtily - good enough that Inks doubted her courtiers had noticed the faint hint of a blush. "I suppose the execution of a sun goddess wouldn't please my father anyway," she said, sounding very much as though it was the only reason for her decision not to throw Inks into the magma. "I will call you an acquaintance, since I cannot be friends with a demon-summoner. What business brings you to my lands?"

"A bit of stately matters on behalf of Rankar VII and then my personal contribution-" Inks urged Pipera to join them, and together the two Exalts quickly laid out the diplomatic and mercantile brief. Renegotiation of importing, and opening of new markets. Inks noted her holdings in the industrial sphere, and growing connections with shipping interests such as Suleiman's group.

All told, she essentially outlined a nation-within-a-nation that would pay handsomely for preferential contracts of Coxati goods and services, and in turn reply back with the products of those raw materials or other exports.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cha+Bur for your pitch; Pipera is a +3.))  
> Inks: !ex 21 "Cha 2 Bur 5 Ex +7 Style +3, Stunt +2, Pipera +3"; Inks: [7, 3, 1, 6, 2, 2, 9, 3, 1, 1, 9, 7, 9, 5, 10, 4, 9, 8, 7, 3, 6] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> Inks: (I have castemark flaring, but I'm gonna run out of motes pretty quick)  
> 

The presentation was definitely a hit with the courtiers. Etiyadi paid attention, but her interest seemed to wane quickly for some reason, drawn to the glowing brand on Inks' forehead. As they wrapped up what Inks felt had been a *stellar* pitch, she waved a hand idly.

"These are complicated matters, of course," she said. "I cannot give an answer at once." A firm, theatrical nod, as if deciding on something abruptly. "You must join me in my chambers tonight, and we will speak more on the matter."

"Looking forward to it." Inks grinned.

Something rumbled.

Something rumbled, and the magma at the chamber bubbled and spat. The courtiers, apparently recognizing this event, fled for the door or dropped where they stood, prostrating themselved on the stone floor of the chamber. Heat ripples rose from it, and it occurred to Inks that they must have something protecting them from the heat just like her, to spend much time in here.

A shape rose from the magma - a formless mass of molten rock from beneath the crust, bright orange-red and noxious with the stench of rotten eggs. It grew and grew and grew until it stood a head higher than a man, and then took form.

Human form.

The god - for it could not be anything other than a god; _the_ god of the volcano whose base the palace stood at - was tall and broad, his skin as craggy as the heights of his domain and as coarse as its black-sanded slopes. A cloak of molten rock lay on his shoulders, buckled with a golden broach in the shape of a dove. Emerald feathers adorned his crown, and he held a heavy obsidian sceptre in his left hand adorned with bronze bells.

Tekutali Fire-in-Earth, Inks thought. Lord of the mountain range she stood upon. Pipera's hand around her wrist became a vice.  
"I feel the rays of the sun more brightly on the inside of my mountain than I have felt without in centuries," the god said. He sounded old - he walked like he was old; with hunched back and careful steps. "What is this? Etiyadi, who is she?"

Inks considered in a lightning moment how to answer- to let Etiyadi take the lead as the godsdaughter, or stand on her own. She made her choice in an instant, and shot the princess a friendly, apologetic look. "Thank you for allowing me to meet in your grand court." She bowed again, before raising her brow and letting her caste mark show proudly. "I am Inks, Twilight Solar and chosen of the Sun. I am here for trade."

Tekutali squinted at her, humming deep in his throat. It sounded like the faint rumbling of the volcano under her feet, and if not for the lack of any tremors she might have thought it was such. "A daughter of Twilight?" he questioned, shuffling over to her. "Centuries and more since I heard of them. What has the sun to trade with Creation, sunsdaughter?" He grinned; baring emerald teeth. "Is your light no longer free?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks has probably picked up, incidentally, that this culture has differing ideas on what exactly Solars *are*. This is pretty common in Creation, since they don't get to see the metaphysics or rulesbook.))  
> ST: ((In this case it seems to think of them as literally being children of the (apparently female in their view) sun goddess.))  
> 

"Oh there are many things I offer freely, but I am a businesswoman." Inks grinned. "I do not work for the Sun, though I respect being Chosen. Maybe someday I will bring the riches of the gods to Creation, but not today."

"Oh?" leaning back, the old god - barely a hint of red left in his basalt-black hair - raised dark eyebrows. "If not the sun, where do you trade from?" He seemed surprised, as far as Inks could make out.

" _Be careful_ ," Pipera's voice whispered zephyr-soft and urgent in her ear from several steps back. "Old gods are often unpredictable at best. And this one thinks you're something you're not."

"Ah, the nation of Gem, specifically, where I live and work. I have holdings there and I seek to open markets with your daughter." She smiled winsome at Etiyadi, and neatly pulled her hand free of Pipera to renew the grip and give her executive a reassuring squeeze.

"I suppose I am of more mortal concern than you might expect, but I mean no offense."

"Holdings..."

He frowned, and the cloak of molten rock burned brighter. This close, the heat was intense, and Pipera was forced to relinquish her grip and step back. "Holdings, in Gem? You mean to rule as your mother did, when I was young? To rule from the ground, and not the sky?"

He did not seem pleased at the idea. Etiyadi, who had been watching from her throne with a faintly smug look, rose in concern.

Inks considered for a long moment, wondering. Mindful of the heat, she bowed. "Honored lord, I am young and still learning. How does one rule from the sky?"

"Mmm. As the sun does now, of course," he said, in a patronizing tone. But the frown had disappeared, and he had adopted instead the manner of an old man lecturing his grandchildren about dimly-remembered glories. "She sits on her throne in the heavens and our reports and prayers are sent to her from below. But," he rumble-hummed again, this time pleased. "It was not always so."

Over his shoulder, Inks quite clearly saw Etiyadi's concern fading. In fact, she rolled her eyes expressively and all but slumped back down on her throne, covering her eyes with a hand.

"Ah, I remember the days when she ruled from the land," the old god said, warming to his topic. "She was as beautiful as the sunset, and as merciless as the midday sun. Her sight stretched as far as the rays of the dawn, and her brilliance was unparalleled." He gestured with his free hand, vaguely southeastward. "She ruled from a city of shining gold, built to honour her in splendour. And such was its beauty that when she gathered up her children and returned to the heavens to rule from them, she took it with her in the palm of her hand, leaving nothing behind."

ST: ((Inks gets the impression that a) he could probably go on about how he was a young god in those days but he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and made something of himself etc etc etc past glories blah blah blah, for probably hours on end.))  
  


>   
> ST: ((and b) probably will and has, if Etiyadi's reaction is anything to go by.))  
> ST: ((so it's up to you whether to stay and listen or find a way to politely interrupt))  
> Inks: (I gathered. I'm reminded of the triplets from Brave miming their father)  
> ST: ((:P)))  
> 

In a great many ways this was _fascinating_ , as she had only ever heard drips and drops of old lore regarding well-anything before the Realm. She did want to listen, but maybe in small doses... or perhaps as a side project. "Great sage Tekutali," Inks hummed, low and respectful. "For good or ill I have earthly concerns to address, my loyal followers and matters of business and state. I however, have no small talent as a scribe, and I would consider it a great honor to arrange a date or several to chronicle your histories and share them with Creation."

>   
> Inks: (my thought is that Inks can arrange a date or two for a proper listening, and use Whirling Brush Method to write a chronicle, which in turn would flatter a god I think?)  
> ST: ((Heh. Roll Cha+Pres for SUCKING UP.))  
> Inks: !ex 16; Inks: [6, 7, 10, 9, 5, 3, 2, 9, 6, 5, 4, 6, 1, 6, 5, 1] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (well, here's hoping relative app helps)  
> ST: ((that's with a 2 dot stunt?))  
> Inks: (yeah, 7 +7 +2, didn't include my style, I could?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, it doesn't have to be sexual flirting, and - sigh - you are definitely flattering his ego and making him feel important and so on.))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [1, 9, 5] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (better than nothing)  
> ST: ((You're working with Intimacy modifiers too, if it helps ease your mind.))  
> Inks: (oh good)  
> 

He definitely seemed to like that idea, and it all but blotted out his peevishness at being interrupted. Harrumphing a few times, he adjusted his cape on his shoulders and looked down his nose at her. "If you wish to hear my story, sunsdaughter, I will share it. But learn some manners first, mm. Would you interrupt your lady mother as she spoke?" He bristled again, but settled quickly, a reminiscent smile brought to his face by

millennia-old memories. "Etiyadi, tell the girl when she may see me in my temple," he ordered distractedly as he turned and made his way back to the magma. Probably to dwell on the past and dredge up old glories, now that he'd cast his mind back to it.

He sank into the lava without a trace, and Etiyadi relaxed slightly once he was well and truly gone.

"You may regret that," she remarked, apparently freer with her tongue without the eyes of her long-since-fled courtiers on her.

"I may, but I am interested." Inks grinned back. "I can write as fast as people speak without error, so I'm not worried. And it smoothed things over." She glanced at Pipera, checking to make sure her executive was still breathing.

She was the recipient of a glare that said in no uncertain terms that she would be scolded once they were in private, but Pipera at least didn't seem harmed. She'd mentioned dealing with spirits in her previous jobs up and down the Firepeak Pave, though probably never one so powerful.

Inks had the decency to look chagrined, before stretching broadly, arms up over her head and fingers laced together. "Well, You and I have a date tonight, and I must ensure my caravan is well-handled before then. With your permission." She bowed to Etiyadi with a playful wink. "May I be excused?"

The Saudari adjusts herself to a more dignified posture on her throne and makes a shooing gesture. "Of course. Go, go. I have other business to attend to - and my father's visit will have thrown off my planned day."  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 13; ST: [2, 6, 7, 4, 5, 9, 7, 9, 3, 9, 8, 10, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> 

"Thank you." Inks grinned, before sauntering off with Pipera in tow. They made their way out of the palace then, towards Ajjim and the caravan, and to negotating the challenges of feeding and finding beds for the same.

>   
> Inks: (So this can either be a mechanical challenge or just part of a scene transition. I think last session there was mention that the caravan crew were being hosted by the palace, but I might be wrong?)  
> ST: ((By, yes. In, no. And that's a basic level of providence, so you can roll Int+Bur to organize upgrades and sort out issues Diff 2 base, thresholds help.))  
> ST: ((Alternatively you can order Pipera to do it)  
> ST: ((and go explore. :P))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. I think I shall do so)  
> 

Trusting Pipera to handle the particulars, Inks moved out into the small city. Like Gem in microcosm, it hugged the volcano but stretched outward into the valley. She could see the farmlands full of rich, healthy crops, but the urban sprawl was more interesting.

Gathering Maji and then Pesala with Ajjim's permission, the three improvised a day trip through the markets and industries of Etiyadi's Coxati land. Metalsmithes worked fine ores from volcanic tubes, along with gem carvers and more. The ceremonial masks the Coxati favored were a prime industry as well.

All around, Inks saw hints of Etiyadi's influence, rich citizens who dressed to flattering cuts and ornate makeup, or similar fancy dress. Pesala rode on Maji's shoulders, eyes wide and absorbing the new places and smells, her own orange curls peeking out from her niqab.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Call this an exploration stunt for Cool Stuff/Fun Things. Hope I didn't presume much on how Coxati looks?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Per+Bur to look at their set-up. No defined Difficulty; more successes means more observations.))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [6, 5, 4, 7, 6, 7, 6, 9, 4, 9, 4, 3] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Also, App+Performance roll for your impression on the city.))  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [9, 2, 4, 4, 6, 1, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Does she have Maji or Vahti with her?))  
> ST: ((Ah, yes to Maji. Vahti?))  
> Inks: (Hmm, forgot her in favor of Pipera, but sure, Vahti too. Curvy girlfriend is welcome company)  
> Inks: (actually, can I ask for app+socialize on 'Impression'? from the 2e model, Perf is 'Oratory or agenda', Socialize is 'Manner/bearing')  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Maji and Vahti both count as an autosux, btw.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +2; Inks: [6, 5, 4, 4, 1, 1, 10, 6, 5, 4] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((lol, same result))  
> Inks: (Heh, oh well, thanks!)  
> 

Inks had been wrong to think of this volcano-city as a smaller Gem, she came to realise. Her current home huddled into the crater of the mountain it lay in; this city sprawled out from the base of Tekutali's like a fan, glorying in the filtered sunlight whose worst glare was blocked by the high valley walls rather than hiding from it. The buildings were of a new style to her, with steeply-sloped roofs whose ridges sloped up sharply at each side and overlapped like scales. Many of them were thatched, the remainder tiled with mountain-stone or baked-mud tiles. A broad spectrum influenced the architecture, from the thick-walled boxy structures she was used to in Gem to some other source that she couldn't identify at a glance.

Brushed Sand had told her the main exports of Etiyadi's people were crops, herbs and textiles. Well, that was certainly true. The people here were universally well-fed, and the markets sold fresher fruit and vegetables than she'd ever seen in Gem for less than eye-watering prices. Naturally, Pesala demanded samples of everything.

And she wanted - she really, _really_ wanted - to get a good look inside some of the textile workshops. The rich clothes all held hints of magic to her trained eye, and the expensive, elaborate masks were only the high point of complex outfits that did beautiful things with thread and fibre. Inks had a suspicion she might be looking at the secret to how Etiyadi's court tolerated the oppressive heat of her throne room in these fabric workers, and resolved to get samples. Lots and lots of samples.

The city wasn't the only thing making an impression, but the reactions to Inks' little band were... curiously understated, if she was honest about it. She'd expected more staring, especially at her. Perhaps Gem had accustomed her to people gawking in the street or walking into tunnel pillars, because it felt odd here how the gazes from passers-by settled, took her in... and then moved on. Maji and Vahti got as many stares as she did, for goodness sake! Maybe the people here were just too used to Etiyadi's inhuman looks to appreciate stunning mortal ones.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice)  
> Inks: (So I _do_ want to follow up on those textile hints, but I think we can tie off today's session with Etiyadi's invitation. I've got nothing else directly on-plan just yet.)  
> ST: ((I think you can guess what she wants from her very necessary and in-depth talks about bureaucracy and trade deals and so on in her personal chambers with Inks alone in the late evening.))  
> ST: ((So just stunt getting ready and we can tie up.))  
> ST: ((App+Presence for making an impression~))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> 

Making a note of a particular merchant-tailor during the initial exploration, Inks arranged for Maji and Pesala to return back to Ajjim and Pipera. That left Inks and Vahti to their own devices.

Now Vahti was an ardent student of many things, Inks especially, and was an expert at identifying some useful, elegant and emphasizing items. Dipping into her personal funds and charm, Inks arranged for a new Coxati addition to her wardrobe, cut to flatter and reveal her body art.  
  


>   
> ST: ((This is basically all Fine quality stuff, so you get to pick a +1 specialty for it.))  
> Inks: (Sexiness/appeal, naturally~)  
> ST: ((Of course.))  
> 

Donning a cloak to preserve the surprise, she returned to Etiyadi's palace and was invited in with no small amount of obeisant fawning. Etiyadi's chambers were opulent in the way only a godsdaughter and princess of a nation could be, and Inks allowed herself an indulgent look of envy at the cushions, couches and bedding. Decor she wanted to emulate in her own home no less.

And Etiyadi herself was in agreeable form as well.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so full style bonuses, +1 autosux from stunner style, +3d, +2 stunt, +1 tool bonus, Cha 2, Pres 4, +6 excellency dice.)  
> Inks: !ex 24 +1; Inks: [9, 3, 9, 1, 9, 1, 1, 7, 2, 2, 7, 3, 2, 8, 2, 5, 1, 1, 2, 4, 8, 2, 9, 6] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

The air was warm, though not the sweltering heat of the throne room, and Inks judged that they were back inside the slopes of the volcano. Probably near an active lava tube running near a wall or under the floor. Etiyadi herself was wearing a great deal of gold jewellery, a somewhat more modest amount of makeup and paint that called attention to her already-gorgeous lines, and not much else. Her eyes gleamed hungrily on seeing Inks in the clothing of her people.

"Lady Inks," she smirked. "Come. Sit. Let us... talk."  
  


>   
> ST: ((End session))  
> ST: 5xp+1mxp  
> Inks: Nice  
> Inks: fun session  
> Inks: kinda sad about some of my rolls, but I can't be on fire all the time  
> ST: Heh. I am very much not complaining about you sometimes not rolling ALL THE TENS.  
> ST: or ALL THE SUCCESSES  
> Inks: I'm also deeply conflicted about Etiyadi being a hot (pun intended) twintalled tsundere princess  
> ST: Oh?  
> Inks: on the one hand, 'memes', on the other hand  
> Inks: I _like_ the archetype and I do think twintails are hot  
> ST: Heh  
> ST: I decided to start off on well-established ground  
> Inks: heH  
> ST: though tbh I didn't actually start out intending for her to be one?  
> ST: it just sort of  
> Inks: happened  
> ST: happened naturally  
> ST: yeah  
> Inks: it _fits_  
>  ST: How did you find her father? Inks'... first major god, I believe.  
> ST: 'Nandi doesn't count, she's an elemental.  
> Inks: Enjoyable! I'm a little concerned at the... knowledge bias? It's a complication that I'm not used to as a player- most games present a more objective view of the setting for good or ill  
> Inks: which means most players have a better handle on how to act because they're all on the same page  
> Inks: the idea of a GOD having a different idea of how Exalted work is Novel, but it means I have to do a lot more work- it's kinda like a minefield?  
> Inks: but it's not a bad thing exactly either. I'd be worried about it in context of a game with more players or wildly divergent views of the setting.  
> ST: Mmm. This is something I'm quite a fan of; that information doesn't really survive very well even when it's objective stuff that can be discovered and known, and that anything from long, long, long ago (or far, far, far away) will tend to be a bit of a game of chinese whispers.  
> ST: Did you pick up the hints in his story?  
> ST: that is to say, what did you read between the lines?  
> Inks: What I gathered was something like he knew a Solar who started like Inks did, and then moved on to 'Heaven' or something similar. I might be wrong though.  
> Inks: Now I agree re: information sanctity, but I'm coming from a perspective of 'game running practical'- if every culture has a different view of The Sun, then that's a huge burden on the players and storytellers.  
> Inks: hence my concern- I'm sure WE can handle it  
> ST: Mmm. I can say that regarding the "different views of the Sun" issue, _most_ cultures - especially closer to the Centre - will have a reasonably uniform view on him with the variations mostly being emphasis  
> Inks: sure, sure, just stating my view- like I said, we can handle it  
> ST: and that you'll tend to get outliers where a) something has warped the culture in question, b) you're waaaaay out in the Threshold where things like the Immaculates haven't been around and consistent for thousands of years or c) some combination of the two  
> Inks: legit  
> ST: I'll write up a summary of his full account (it may include sections like "and then he worked his way up the ladder by blah blah blah promotions blah blah feats of heroism blah blah blah blah thirty minute rant about how a superior of his was guilty of a very minor bit of corruption that's probably in Inks' opinion dwarfed by what he's doing right now but he made a huge fuss about it and by cunning and strategic bribery got them Terminally   
> ST: Sanctioned, blah blah blah etc".))  
> Inks: Haha, nice  
> Inks: I did want to point out  
> Inks: that my goal re: that sequence was to allow for cleverly summary instead of a labor of writing out an actual spoken monologue  
> ST: Yes. Nicely done.  
> Inks: by having a written record, it can be invoked as a tool bonus as well  
> ST: ooo, sneaky  
> ST: but clever  
> ST: I'll allow it ;)  
> Inks: Heh  
> Inks: There was one last mechanical thing I wanted to do before we closed out- what was the roll for bedroom performance? App+Presence?  
> ST: Heh. Alright, fine. Hmm... lower of App and Charisma, since it's active engagement as much as just being very pretty.  
> Inks: !ex 12 +4; Inks: [5, 8, 8, 7, 5, 9, 3, 4, 6, 10, 1, 3] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: and this is a venue in which "blowing her mind" could affect the narrative  
> Inks: Like that?  
> ST: Haaang on while I work out what she's actually rolling  
> ST: !ex 14 +1; ST: [6, 3, 4, 6, 9, 4, 1, 4, 9, 7, 9, 3, 8, 10] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: Well, I wouldn't say "blew her mind", but yes, Inks definitely... sigh  
> ST: came out on top  
> ST: ¬_¬  
> Inks: heh  
> Inks: anyway, good session, and looking forward to next week!  
> 


	29. Sesssion 29: Histories of the Land and Etiyadi-Coxati Culture

  
  


>   
> ST: Okay, so pre-session, Tekutali's story was long and rambling and took about seven hours for Inks to transcribe, but can be roughly boiled down to the following:
> 
> \- When the world was young and he was the newly-appointed god of a small mountain village, the Sun Goddess ruled Creation from the ground in a shining city southeast of his volcano. She was beautiful beyond the breadth of words, brilliant beyond the ken of mortal minds, unstoppable in her determination and unmatchable in her insight blah blah blah etc etc etc.
> 
> \- She had many children, who bore the sun on their brows but were of course no equals to her own glory, and her city was a reflection of her self.
> 
> \- At some point she took her children and her city and returned to the Sun to rule from up in the heavens. This was either in response to or directly preceding some terrible war; it was a very long time ago and he doesn't remember.
> 
> \- Tekutali was a strapping young god who was ambitious and had big ideas, and her return to the heavens made him decide to reach them as well, and by a variety of means both fair and foul he worked his way up from a tiny little village-god to the lord of a whole volcano.
> 
> \- The Sun briefly returned to the world in another face - far less beautiful but far grander - when death reigned and the fae invaded. She spoke but a word and the land answered; every mountain in the South spoke with fire and thunder at once, the sandstorms swallowed whole armies and scraped the vault of the sky, the ground shook and vast chasms split open, etc.
> 
> \- Tekutali of course defended his mountain with honour and glory and personally dueled a raksha lord himself and cast him down into the molten stone in defence of his blah blah blah further stories of personal glory.
> 
> \- He may actually be telling the truth there, because - interestingly to Inks - he claims that quite a lot of divine or elemental courts were in fact collateral damage in that cataclysm, and were killed when the volcanoes they lived near erupted. He was spared due to not being in his sanctum at the time, instead fighting a raksha out in the valley. His village died, but he lived.
> 
> \- Also something like nine in ten of them had already died to the Great Contagion.
> 
> \- Since there was something of a deficit of gods around after the dust had settled, he was able to expand further and eventually take over the entire mountain range that he now rules, securing his hold on it by various more divine dealings blah blah blah let's just say that Inks has a pretty good view on the typical means of divine corruption and politics.
> 
> Inks: How hard would it be to have run Judge's Ear during this?
> 
> ST: It's per-statement, so she can't keep it going for every single little thing he says unless she's being pretty obvious about doing more than just transcribing his words, but she can check anything that sounds important.
> 
> ST: She can also tell that for all his glory-stories, he's still pretty traumatized by the Contagion and the sheer number of other gods he knew who died to it. He talks a lot more about fighting off raksha than the implacable advance of the plague and the horrific death toll.
> 
> Inks: Gotcha. I'll consider maybe a custom charm that expands judge's ear to work on written words or something later maybe.
> 
> ST: Anyway, from there she can mostly guess. He's had several children over the course of his life, and his mountain has changed human polities on a number of occasions, not that he's cared much since they all wound up worshiping him. His story is more concerned with him and what he's done, so what she can glean from it about the mortal side of the Coxati is mostly incidental.
> 
> Inks: (Gotcha, very useful/helpful!)  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: Any bits she particularly wants to drop Judge's Ear on?  
> Inks: (Hmm, I'm curious about the 'dueled a raksha lord' bit)  
> ST: ((Reads as half-truth.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Everything else I can follow up on in a more anthropological way)  
> 

* * *

The next six or so days passed in a productive blur, punctuated by bursts of mercantile genius and playful indulgence. Inks practiced her hand at gathering those of like mind, improvising causes of the moment and learning the ways of the benevolent demagogue.

More meaningfully, she spent time negotiating with local interests about selling wares and raw materials to her or her interests, up to and including a negotiation with those who worked the rocks and mines of the volcanic hillsides with an eye towards shipping ores towards Gem. As she did this, she also considered the idea of more local investment, letting the Coxati owners pre-process some of their product before shipping it out- to that end she idly drafted some mental plans for drop-hammers to crush ore and efficient furnaces for smelting.

But nothing concrete materialized just yet. Etiyadi was her primary point of contact and through the goddaughter of the land, Inks happily wheeled and dealed. Many of these deals happened in the increasingly frequent 'private meetings' at Etiyadi's playful request- though the lord of the valley was careful to remain aloof and save face in the front of her court.

Inks and Pipera both also spent no small amount of effort arranging for meetings and demonstrations with local artisans, specifically the potentially magical textiles and weavings Coxati were known for.

At the end of a productive week, Inks had asked if Vahti could join, and the company of a fire elemental was by no means unwelcome...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay- so I am learning the socialize charm 'Gathering the Congregation', which takes 6 days, and I will be training approx 8 hours per day so a lot of these 'actions' are compressed into lunch breaks and Pipera's support.)  
> Inks: (Inks is spending more than a few nights with Etiyadi, building a friendship/alliance and attempting to fix her up as a proper Ally. I aim to cue up two 'scenes'- pillow talk with Etiyadi, and then a meeting with a local textiles expert/artisan for a discussion on the magical fabrics.)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Though note that Etiyadi's valleys aren't actually that ore-rich in terms of exporting the stuff - their primary exports are crops, herbs and textiles, and it would be a major undertaking to expand their mines and find new ore seams or mineral deposits.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, but the premise is sound maybe for another lord, thanks for that heads up)  
> Inks: (I mostly just wanted to maintain the through line of Inks planning on casual industrialization insights)  
> 

Sated for the moment and stretching out on the warm, soft sheets, Etiyadi hummed happily as Vahti nuzzled into her collarbone. "Mmm," she purred. "Darling, you must promise me that you'll visit again on your way back to Gem, whenever that will be. Or move here for good?" She raised a tantalizing eyebrow.

"I'm building up holdings in Gem, but I see no reason why I can't expand out to other lands." Inks offered her a teasing grin. "Businesses, vacation homes..." She stretched, sated herself and feeling the pleasant ache of an enjoyable night.

"Mmm." That put a smile on Etiyadi's lips. "Speaking of other lands, where will you be going next?"

"And I am a sorcerer- soon I could just learn how to be here in a blink." She laid down next to Etiyadi, pressing flush against her with a grin. "The Painted Lady of Gem, appearing where she likes when she likes."

"To that- I was intending to speak to more neighboring Coxati courts. Speak to a few more of your peers before heading further out."

"Which... mm. Which ones? Not all of them are as accepting or welcoming as me, you know," Etiyadi yawned, apparently choosing to forget about threatening to have Inks thrown into lava as a human sacrifice.

"Pangasutri White-Eyes I know of, and Susili Moto another- but I was given a firm warning of avoiding the latter." She paused, thoughtful. "Neither are ideal, so if you have a suggestion I would love to hear it."

There was no reply for a few moments, and Inks started to think that Etiyadi had either drifted off or lost interest in the subject relative to Vahti nipping at her collarbone. But after a longish pause for thought, she gently pushed the pouting fire duck away and shifted position to sit upright against the bulging pillows.

"You won't get a good reception from White-Eyes," she said more seriously. "He's - hah - blindly devoted to the rule of law, and you're a known demonologist. He'll... ah, no, he might not... no, he probably wouldn't kill you on sight. He has the forces for a war with Gem, but he can't afford one, not when so much of his income is built on hiring out his mercenaries and adjudicator-monks, and not when he has such a lucrative trade deal with your Despot. But he might very well try to arrest you."

"And as for Moto?" She stroked Vahti's hair absently, her other hand interlacing with Inks' own. "I'd like to know who warned you off him... he's ambitious. And smart." Her eyes narrow. "And rude, arrogant, vulgar, powerful... hm! You'd have to go to him, he doesn't travel anymore and hasn't in years. I hear some scheme of his backfired and crippled him. Serves him right!"

"There are others, though. Xandia, for one - she could supply you with the livestock that Pangasutri sells now. Akna, too; he has mines for the ore you want." Her fingers tap-tap-tap against the back of Inks' hand, and a slow smile spreads across her face.

"I'll tell you what, darling. I'll give you the trade deal you want; the one that favours Gem more and loses me some jewels. But in return, whichever lord you choose to go to - be it Pangasutri, Moto, Xandia or Akna - you'll do me a little favour while you're there. I've things I want from all of them, and they're so annoying and stubborn when I ask myself, but you're very... mm... persuasive. Does that sound fair to you?"

"More than fair." With ther hands linked, it added a playful sort of tangling closeness to the kiss Inks leaned down to give her. "And I'm sure I can help your valley make up those lost jewels. As far as I'm concerned, a richer Gem means a richer Coxati." 

"I think I will visit Xandia and Anka first, and build inroads to perhaps making a better deal with Pangasutri." Inks caught Vahti's eye, and with a conspiratorial wink, encouraged the elemental to focus her attentions a bit lower. "Let me know what favor you seek before I depart for the next court, and I'll do my best. Or make it up to you."

"Well... favours can wait a little while, I think. Don't you?" Etiyadi drew Inks in further, rolling to pin her between herself and Vahti, who took advantage of the new position to glomp her from behind. "Oh," she added in sudden memory, pausing between kisses. "My father had something he wanted from you as well. He's taken a liking to you, I fear. You can visit him... once we're done here."

Inks let out a delighted shiver. "No hurry, please."

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (Good note to scene break on~)  
> ST: ((Okay, will Inks go see what the god wants, or go look into magic fabric? Heh. That rhymes.))  
> Inks: (Yes, I will see what the god wants)  
> Inks: (This is the give/take of ST/player scene pacing  
> 

Tekutali's sanctum was a magma chamber. In deference to the fact that it was a divine living-space set slightly outside normal space and inhabited by a spirit, it was not an actual, physically-full-of-molten-rock magma chamber. But the walls were melted-smooth rock that glowed orange-red from within and a sourceless heat filled them. The furnishings were granite and obsidian, many of them moulded into the walls and floor as if pulled out  
and formed into shape as lava and then cooled solid.

It was a palatial residence; the chamber-hall Inks stepped into only the first of many with others branching off from it down lava-tubes whose look she recognised from the tunnels of Gem.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Sanctum 4, if you're interested.))  
> ST: ((Which Inks can judge from the scale.))  
> Inks: (Fuuuun. I love sanctum rules, for the record)  
> 

The old god was waiting for her in the first chamber, as he had been on her prior visit. Hopefully this one wouldn't take seven hours of recitation and bragging.  
"Sun-child," Tekutali intoned. "Can you be trusted with a task for me? Can you bind us in a pact, if I make an agreement with you to give in return for receiving? Are you a woman of your word?"

Inks blinked. That was not what she had expected, but now she settled down and gave it some thought.

"I would... I would try, honorable one." Inks declared. "I would like to know the task before I accept, if possible, but I try to be a woman of my word- reputation is important."

He rumbled - and the sound echoed throughout the sanctum, the magma-light of the walls flaring, the ground trembling. "An item was taken from me, young sundaughter," he said after some thought. "I want it back. Return it to me, and I will grant you any favour, give you the backing of my court, the service of my lessers. You must swear to say nothing of this to my daughter, nor any god, elemental or mortal."

"That is a tall challenge- do you know where it is, who has it?"

Jaw clenching, he shook his head. "Only that the original thief is dead."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's ear, personal motes)  
> Inks: (On 'thief is dead')  
> ST: ((NOT FALSEHOOD.))  
> ST: ((Well, not deliberate falsehood.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 

Inks considered the task, taking a seat and humming thoughtfully. No known location, an object... "I would be happy to help, but I need every bit of information you can give me to even start looking for it. What is the item, who took it from you, and so on." She spread her hands expansively. "Anything at all can help."

Tekutali seemed to consider for a while, reluctant to tell even her any details about his missing item. "... it is a drum," he said eventually. "As wide from side to side as a horse stands at the shoulder and thicker than a man's chest. It is magical, and..." he pauses, "... a trophy that I took in my youth. You must tell nobody it is missing, not even my Etiyadi, and reveal it to nobody if found. Return it to me yourself, concealed, and do not sound it even once."

Inks hummed again.

"Okay, so I can't use any of my contacts- I have to do all the legwork myself. I can't ask Pipera who's job is to do this sort of thing, but that's understandable. You want circumspect." Her tone had changed to the more wheel-and-deal Nexian cadence out of habit.

"So that means that I have to... figure out who stole it from you, and then reconstruct a significant portion of their life to figure out when your treasure left their possession. And then repeat this process over and over until I find it."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Actually, technically))  
> ST: ((he said "no god, no elemental and no mortal))  
> ST: ((Pipera is Dragonblooded :V))  
> Inks: (So Exalts count? And so do demons)  
> Inks: (Fair enough.)  
> ST: ((Well, Inks can probably deduce that he didn't _mean_ to leave those holes open, but she can technically swear to those terms and still keep her word by getting Pipera to do it. :P))  
> Inks: (Sure)  
> 

Standing smartly, Inks offered the god one of her brightest, shining smiles. "I accept this task in good faith. If I cannot do it, I will tell you all that I did discover, but until then, I give you my word that I shall see it done."

>   
> ST: ((Wits+Lore, Diff 1))  
> Inks: (Rolled 3 sux)  
> ST: ((One thing that might help a great deal without revealing things about it he evidently doesn't want Inks to know is _when he lost it_ , since that would presumably narrow down the range of possible thieves considerably.))  
> Inks: (Hmmm)  
> Inks: (But he's likely not going to tell me without a proper convincing. So I have an alternative idea- I'd review the manuscript, and do an investigation action to see if when the drum gets mentioned and when it stops being mentioned)  
> ST: ((Worth a shot.))  
> Inks: (Anyway, I can always come back and prod for more detail if I have to, and use the time to find ways to butter him up more)  
> Inks: (Anything Tekutali wants to say before we move on?)  
> ST: ((Nope, that's it.))  
> 

* * *

After excusing herself from Tekutali's grand Sanctum, Inks moved with purpose- not haste, back to the caravan lodgings and Pipera. There, she carefully wrote out a description of the drum and Tekutali's request. Once Pipera had read it, the paper was thrown into a nearby fire until it burned away completely- Inks knew that *she* could restore something from charred flakes, but if there were no flakes...

The written instructions were by necessity terse, but Inks was all smiles, eyes shining with the implicit challenge. "Tekutali wants me to find this Drum. I'm going to go over his memoirs and see if there's a lead there, or something I can use to convince him to tell me more. If you have any ideas, I'm interested."

The manuscript itself was seven hours of stream-of-consciousness and divine self-aggrandizement, but more than a bit of it was reasonably factual. Inks poured over the text, writing notes with a deft, quick hand on a bit of cheap paper. The words all but leaped off the page into her mind, and she did her best to glean some insight.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, stunting a per/int+invest action with tool bonus from the Manuscript, and possibly assistance bonus from Pipera. 1st Investigation Excellency in effect.)  
> ST: ((Per+Inv, +1 tool bonus from the manuscript, +1 from Pepper. Diff 4.))  
> Inks: (Oh, forgot my investigation style too, +2 dice as well. If you have my sheet handy, would I qualify for any of the mastery perks on this roll?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yes, adept.))  
> ST: ((+1))  
> Inks: (so per 5, invest 3, style +2, adept +1, stunt +2, tool +1, Pipera +1, +8 1st excellency, 23d total(  
> Inks: (15 successes)  
> 

Scanning through the document twice, Inks only caught a few references to the drum. There was no bragging about having taken it as a trophy in the first place, it wasn't featured among his lists of glorious possessions, and where it does show up it's as an aside or a dropped mention in more involved tales that don't focus on it specifically.

Thinking back, Inks remembered him quickly moving on when he made reference to it and hastily playing up other aspects of the stories - she could see it in the transcriptions even in retrospect. She rather suspected he was accustomed to hiding it and making no mention of its presence, likely to avoid anyone finding out it's gone. The first mention he made of having it was shortly after gaining control over the mountain as a whole by getting the prior mountain-god sanctioned on charges of corruption, and the last was while musing happily on his rapid expansion in the wake of the Balorion Crusade - but if he was deliberately holding back from mentioning it in his tale, it could have been stolen much, much later. Perhaps even in living memory.

Inks smiled to herself, pleased with a good investment of her time. It at least narrowed the field. She looked around for Pipera, and called her over once the other woman had a free moment.

"Dare I ask?" her aide said dryly as she took a seat. "Also, this reads like the ramblings of an old war veteran or adventurer. If his name wasn't taboo here I'd almost suggest introducing your Sand Dragon to him and let them talk about the olden days together."

Inks let out a short, earnest laugh. "Oh if I can get them all to mellow out I just might, it'd be adorable." She showed Pipera her findings, smiling. "It's not much of a lead yet, but it's a start. I wanted to know if we're still scheduled to meet with the local weaver talent."

Pipera's lip curled slightly in distaste. "Yes, in three sunmarks." She tapped the transcription. "He's obviously holding something back about what this drum is, especially if he's so intent on nobody so much as seeing it. Especially his daughter, for some reason - he mentioned her twice. Do you have any theories?"

"It's likely something like an icon or badge of office that he channels his authority through-" She shrugged. "It's a guess based on what I've heard of other gods from 'Nanda and the like too. I... wonder honestly when the last time this volcano erupted, because I feel like it's one of those 'bang on the drum to wake the mountain' stories."

Pipera considered that. "His authority isn't just the mountain, though," she pointed out uncomfortably. "It stretches across this whole volcano range. Most of the Coxati territories, in fact."

"Greaaat." Inks sighed. "Well I'm going to _treat it_ as something like that. He urged us to be very circumspect, and demanded that we never let anyone see it or sound it until it gets back to his hands."

"My my, is that tact and cautious prudence?" Pipera raised an eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with my employer? She has an appointment soon, and I'd hate to have to drag her out of another bedroom to meet it."

Inks laughed, warm and pleasant as she carefully destroyed her notes and moved to join her executive assistance. "Let's go."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((I assume Inks is intending to take Pipera to the meeting, but Pipera will ask, and... hmm. Roll Per+Awareness against MDV 7.))  
> Inks: (That's an interesting idea, per+awa against mdv, but sure. That's 5 + 1 +2 from style. I'll throw in 3 successes from 2nd excellency)  
> Inks: (Dang, rolled 3 successes + 3 autosux, no pass)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Pipera will ask whether she's needed, and Inks may wonder if she has some other interests in the area or just isn't particularly interested in what will probably become an involved technical discussion about thread counts and magical weaving methodology.))  
> ST: ((Hmm. Per+Awa? What's the appropriate pool for "guessing at why she's asking through her poker face"?))  
> Inks: (Per+invest/socialize against a static value of (man+soc)/2 )  
> ST: ((Oh, huh. Hmm. I'm inclined to have you roll against her MDV, though... in practice they're actually the same thing anyway. But okay, you can roll that instead if you wish to guess at her mysterious motives.))  
> Inks: (okay, per 5 invest 3 +2 style, +4 autosux, aiming to beat Pipera's Man+Soc /2 , note that Styles and other bonuses apply, as do stunts. On paper, a regular character can have a pokerface of 7 before stunts/charms. )  
> Inks: (Rolled 6sux on 10d +4 autosux, does that beat Pipera's pokerface?)  
> ST: ((Inks is pretty sure that something about the people they're going to see annoys Pipera - possibly in a manner similar to the annoyance and frosty demeanour and snappishness she showed towards Inks during the first few months of her employment, before she warmed up a little.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> 

Reading Pipera's expression, Inks cocks her head to one side. "I think I can handle this on my own- but keep me posted if anything interesting happens while I'm here." She sauntered along the road, smiling as the citizens recognized her in passing.

The weavers worked in a large, low building on ornate wooden-rod backstrap looms. The air was thick with cotton and wool fibers, but Inks could see the godsblessings carved into the wooden rods of the looms, the patterns made by the arms and the sticks of incense placed where their fragrance would rise through the warp threads as the shuttle passed through them over and over.

One of the weavers broke off from the low prayer-chant they shared and set her shuttle down. Rising from where she knelt on a woven mat, she greeted Inks with a smile and a bow. Inks guessed her to be about sixty or seventy; her face wrinkled, her tattoo sleeves slightly faded from the rich colours they must once have held and her grey hair tightly braided back out of the way.

"Come on then, young Lady," she said with a grin. Despite the bow and the audible capitalisation of the title, she didn't seem particularly deferential. "I'm Matuula. Come sit by me as I work, and we can talk."

Inks grinned. "Gladly." She took the offered seat with no small amount of grace and beamed. "I'm already full of questions. This place is amazing!" Her eyes flicked from rune and sigil, to blessing script and the careful arrangement of braizers and more. She looked at the very mats they were sitting on, obviously woven and thick with enchantments.

Matuula chuckled. Her voice was low and a little rough, and her stubby, weathered fingers made the shuttle dance as it threaded weft through warp in a pattern that almost blurred. "Ask away," she invited.

Inks thought carefully for a moment, calling forth her castemark as a shining testament to her own supernatural brilliance. "Oh, where to start..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Craft, Diff 3.))  
> Inks: (10 +10 excellency +1 stunt)  
> Inks: (Also mote reactor at Castemark level, confirmed?)  
> ST: ((Noted.))  
> Inks: (Four successes)  
> ST: ((Inks can tell that Matuula is using a dicepool of something like 8-10 dice for her weaving - and that she used to be even better; age has slowed her fingers down. She is very, very good at this, and definitely has a fully mastered style backing her up.))  
> 

Inks considered for a moment. "A lot of the magic is in your deft touch." She observed. "Would you be interested in getting some of it back?" She eyed the woman's hands, assessing the arthritic tension with a practiced eye.

Inks: (I forgot FDT has the 5m mode, so I want to use that, but I haven't Asked for it)

"Would you mind if I looked you over? I am a doctor."

"Ho!" Matuula seemed amused, and Inks was actually a little impressed that she was still weaving without needing to look. The sheet had the beginnings of a mandala-pattern on it that was somewhere in the family of blessings-from-Venus, though it was too incomplete to tell what for. "And you'd do this for nothing, eh? Just the kindness of your heart?"

"Oh I'm already learning a lot just by watching- but pretty much." She smiled grandly. "I of course like being paid for my skills, but yes, I'm a doctor because I want to make people well. It'd take about an hour of your time."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Ah, clarification, the angle I'm going for is treating her hands, but as per corebook, the 'ravages of age' are keyworded as Sickness, and I can't fix that just yet. If they're Crippling keyworded, I can)  
> 

"Hold on a moment, let me finish this section." The sheds opened and shut, the shuttle flew, the yarn hummed in time with the prayer-chant that Matuula and the other weavers sung to the beat of their work. It was a minute or two more before Matuula declared herself satisfied for the moment and laid the sheet-in-the-making down, offering her hands to Inks.

>   
> Inks: (So, FDT first, are they Crippling or Sickness?)  
> ST: ((Sickness. Arthritis and age.))  
> 

Inks sucked on her teeth. "Ah, I don't have a trick to treat these just yet." She offered the woman an apologetic look. She did however take the time to formulate a treatment with some locally available medicines.

>   
> Inks: (Doing a quick int+med roll for aforementioned treatment, which will likely be invoked when i come back with ailment-rectifying method)  
> Inks: (Rolled 10d, got 6 sux)  
> 

There was a trace of disappointment to the old woman's tone as they talked it over, but it was fleeting against the calm, faintly amused acceptance of an elderly woman content with her lot. She recognised most of the treatments Inks was shown, and was in fact using several - though Inks was able to suggest a few new ways to get the most out of them and several better combinations of local herbal remedies.

"So!" Inks clapped her hands. "I'm curious about what divine aide you all invoke- if that's not taboo? I'd like to adapt the technique to my own works."  
"Ask away, love, but the gods only help those who can already weave," Matuula grinned. "This is more skill than worship. Here, though. These marks call on our lady Chiquen Flaxenhaired, and these..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((While they do call upon various blessings and gods, Matuula's explanation emphasizes that a lot of it is just having a strong thaumaturgy tradition and teaching from childhood until they're good enough to use minor magics to enhance their work, as well as ritualistic group-weaving techniques she only describes the existence of that let them all cooperate to make thaum-material fabrics.))  
> Inks: (Nice.)  
> ST: ((They also have pretty high-quality materials due to the valley's abundance of rich flora.))  
> Inks: (Legit)  
> 

The particulars of craftsmanship slowly drifted, and Matuula had a warm, earthy sense of humor that meshed quite nicely with Inks's own. The conversation gradually shifted to that of business, and Inks carefully broached the topic of selling the fabric in other markets, through her holdinngs.

"Not much of our best work travels outside our valley," Matuula admitted. "Part of it is because we save our best for ourselves - our work is a labour of love, and we can only make it in small amounts. But as much as is because it's sacred to us. I'm sharing this much with you, Lady girl, because the Saudari's taken a liking to you," she winked, "and because you're a sunsdaughter. But selling it out in the desert..." She sucked her teeth apprehensively. "I'm not sure. The idea doesn't quite sit right with me, I'll say that much."

"That's fair." Inks smiled reassuringly, not in the least offended. "I would at least like to develop a positive trade relationship if possible, even if it's not a large-scale operation..." She hummed, contemplatively.

"Would your group be interested in... a materials contract, or exchange? I'm sure there are things I could do with your weaving..." She picked an idea out of the air. "Like commissioning you to create a sail for a sandship." She shrugged, thinking aloud. "Maybe it wouldn't work, but it's a thought."

Matuula whistled sharply and exchanged a quick flurry of words with the other weavers, her accent thickening and her dialect shifting to one foreign enough that Inks couldn't follow it. The response she got back sounded positive, and she grinned broadly, the laugh-lines under her eyes crinkling.

"You bring us a commission that's a challenge, and we'll at least give it a good try," she offered. "A sandship sail sounds fun to see if we can put together, if nothing else."

"Fantastic!" Inks beamed. "I'll make the arrangements. I will keep you appraised!"

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (I think we can conclude on that, with a post-session recap of things accomplish?)  
> ST: Yup, sounds good.  
> Alright! Fun session ST  
> ST: Inks has - contingent on performing a negotiation service with one of the Coxati lords of her choice - secured the Gem trade deal and gotten Etiyadi as an Ally.  
> ST: She also has a pending Tekutali Ally if, and only if, she can find his magic drum that may or may not wake up mountains.  
> Inks: Nice. And I have a positive relationship with the weavers of Etiyadi-Coxati  
> ST: indeed  
> 


	30. Session 30: The Journey to Xandia

  
  


>   
> ST: (Last session we left off with Etiyadi having a few favours she wants done. Inks can sum those up as the following:)  
> ST: (Regarding _Pangasutri_ , she wants him to lay off the condemnation of her god-backed rule by divine birthright as being an intervention in the affairs of mortals by spirits who have no place or right to do so.)  
> ST: (In dealings with _Susili Moto_ , she'd like him to cough up the blueprints for the Shogunate-era geomantic volcano-taps she knows for a fact he's dug up.)  
> ST: (Should Inks visit _Xandia_ , she's keen to get a public diplomatic promise that Xandia will honour her authority over the land she currently controls, and make no move to oust or overrule her.)  
> ST: (And if _Akna_ is in a mood to listen, she'd appreciate it if he'd stop sending his fucking sun-cultists over their shared border to induct _her_ valley-dwellers into statue-idolatry.)  
> ST: (Since she doesn't share a border with the remaining three Coxati lords, Etiyadi doesn't really care what they do.)  
> ST: ((Etiyadi may have used slightly more diplomatic language than this, of course)  
> Inks: (Naturally)
> 
> ST: (On the other hand, she may have phrased it _less_ diplomatically, too. :P)  
> ST: (Still intending to visit Xandia first?)  
> Inks: (Yeah... I think what I'd like to do is spend an action sending the letter out, and then wait a bit so it gets there before the caravan. In that time- I'm thinking a day or two head start, I'd do an investigation action to get a read on Susili Moto as Etiyadi's state reads him. It wouldn't be Perfect information, but it'd be Something.)  
> ST: (A letter is basically certain to get there faster than a caravan, simply because you're moving at the foot/cart travel pace and it'll be going by hired courier.)  
> Inks: (I figured, but I wanted to explain my thinking)  
> ST: (Okay then. In that case, hmm. Will Inks write the letter herself, or delegate to Pipera?)  
> Inks: (I'm assuming Pipera has a higher Linguistics rating, but Inks would conver any teamwork bonus on Pipera she could. Alternatively, you can argue that this is a Full Teamwork Action, where two people roll their pools as appropriate and combine the results- those kinds of situations are very rare.)  
> Inks: (And, just so we're on the same page, a written social attack is still cha/man+presence, but it uses Linguistics as Appearace Modifier)  
> ST: (Hmm. Well, Pipera will be phrasing and writing it, but Inks will be at the very least deciding what she wants the gist of it to say - the message, so to speak, rather than the exact wording. So I guess we can start there.)  
> 

* * *

Sitting at the travel-desk she'd brought along, Pipera ran a hand through her neat blue braids and leveled Inks with a patient look. "What exactly is it you want this letter to say, beyond the fact that we're on our way there?" she asked. "Give me a message to convey."

Leaning against a nearby wall, Inks hummed. "It's a letter of introduction, to explain my purpose as an Envoy of Gem and for business and trade. We're trying to establish stronger overall ties between these nations..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Are we agreed that Etiyadi will offer a seal of approval or vouch for the letter, or do I have to ask for that in-character?)  
> ST: (Yeah, she wants Inks to go cozy up to other lords and do stuff for her)  
> 

"The goal is to open the court- to be welcomed and have an audience with Xandia and her advisors." Inks added. "From there we can advance our economic and diplomatic goals. Is Etiyadi the only god-daughter Coxati lord?"

"Xandia has strong alliances with two of the further lords," Pipera supplied, tapping her brush on the polished wood of her desk. "She wants to unite the Coxati, she just wants to do it under her leadership." 

She pursed her lips. "Etiyadi is the only one I know of with divine heritage - though Akna has some sort of relationship with an elemental lord - but I don't know much about the three furthest lords. I've never had many dealings with any of the Coxati, and Gem's never had much contact with them due to distance and risk."

"Hmm... A united Coxati would be _interesting_ , but it'd probably give Piercing Sun another heart condition if it ever happened." Inks considered it for a moment, evaluating the merits of working on Etiyadi to allow for the unification versus nudging Xandia towards a different political angle. At the end though, she just did not have enough information. "If you haven't been, spend some time building up more contacts here in Coxati."

Inks offered that last as a passing suggestion, before bouncing away from the wall and sitting down next to Pipera. "So the letter should be fairly earnest- we're there to do business and make a strong deal for all parties." She went on to list out a few more terms, idly considering what latitude the Despot would give her on renegotatiing _his_ end of the agreement.

"Hmm... Don't promise anything, but I'm going to see if I can stretch the Despot's money and authority a bit further for the lords than anyone's expecting."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I think I've said what needs to be said for the letter: "We're here to do business, here's what we're offering, the caravan should arrive at X time, we ask that you receive us and hope you are interested in doing business.))  
> Inks: ((What I idly just decided to throw in was also an Int+Bur action to see if I can pull more out of the authority the Despot's invested in me to do more with Gem's side of the deal. Not to make Gem PAY lots more, but to find new efficiencies... I do have Bureau Rectifying Method, so... Heh. Okay, idea.))  
> Inks: ((Alright, so I can't do much RIGHT NOW, but when I get back to Gem to tie everything off, I hit the 'trade/diplomacy' side of Gem's government however that works with Bureau Rectifying so that it becomes Less Corrupt and More Efficient, which means then that the Coxati and other contractees are going to see trickle down benefits. Does that make sense?))  
> ST: ((It makes sense, yes. Though note that Inks can already guess a lot of the corruption will favour Rankar, and he might not be happy about that being removed.)  
> Inks: (Point, so the hard sell on Inks's end is proving that an efficiently run organization can enrich Rankar even more than a corrupt one.)  
> ST: ((Yes. Which it may just not be able to - certainly it's unlikely that it will mundanely.))  
> Inks: (Good thing I am BS Solar!)  
> ST: ((:P))  
> 

"Of course," Pipera said with a faintly patronizing air. "So, an introduction, an explanation of why we're coming, and an apology in advance for your..." her eyes dragged up and down Inks "... better qualities. Do you want to take her a gift? It can be a social grease in this culture, although it might come off as a placatory message - an admission of weakness that you think you have to flatter her."

Inks smiled fondly. "So snarky, Pipera... Gift gift gift... I'd need a better read on Xandia... Hmm..." She reviewed the past week or so of discussion and 'discussion' with Etiyadi- the impression she gained over that time was that Etiyadi did not _dislike_ the other lord, but was frustrated or vexxed by their habits and politics. It wasn't a complete or ideal picture, but it was enough to start.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... you remember that Pipera has a Charm that lets her intuit an ideal gift for people, right?))  
> Inks: (Yes, but this'll help regardless)  
> Inks: (Besides, logically Pipera would've used the Charm in the process of offering?)  
> Inks: (I am going to try Evidence-Discerning MEthod on Xandia, so I roll int+invest at difficulty 1- now the charm cites an external penalty for misleading cues or lack of information. What is the penalty?)  
> ST: ((Yes, which is why she's asking if Inks wants to give a gift at all - note what she said about "it could come off as social grease or an admission of weakness depending on how well it's done".))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, that wasn't clear at all. I'll still do EDM though, because it'll still be useful  
> ST: ((-5 external penalty in certain areas))  
> Inks: (Okay, spending 8m on 2nd invest, so -1 external penalty on diff 1, 12d)  
> Inks: !ex 12 -1; Inks: [1, 10, 6, 7, 1, 3, 8, 4, 5, 5, 2, 4] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Okay, so Inks now negates -2 points of external penalty on all dramatic, social and warfare actions made against Xandia. This includes any action related to securing or delivering the gift!)  
> Inks: (This will last until Inks decommits the 5m on the charm)  
> 

Having made an evaluation of Xandia and her character, Inks nudged Pipera with one shoulder. "Do you have an idea for a gift?"

"We're taking her something, then?" Pipera confirmed, ticking something off on one of her many documents. "In that case... a moment, please." She closed her eyes and tilted her head, thinking.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, you can roll me Pipera's pool to intuit a gift. Diff 2 roll, Perception 2 + Bureaucracy 5 + 5 dice from her Bureaucracy Excellency = 12.))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [3, 8, 6, 4, 4, 2, 9, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

After a moment's thought, Pipera nodded. "From what I have heard, Xandia's capital is home to the finest medical knowledge in the Coxati nation, and she treads lightly with Etiyadi, who's the main source of pharmaceutical herbs and drugs. Advanced medical or healing knowledge would make a good gift for her."

"I think I can manage that." Inks grinned.

Pipera began the first of several drafts for the letter, dismissing Inks while she worked and leaving her with a few free hours to spend.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the letter's being written, and now I can do something else for a bit. All of the Etiyadi business is more or less concluded... Okay I got an idea of what I'm gonna do. Lemme know if there's anything interesting I should do while I type))  
> ST: ((Yeah, this is mostly just a "anything you want to get done as a last thing in Etiyadi's lands))  
> ST: ((Like what you said about scoping out Moto))  
> 

After Pipera ushered her out, Inks meandered through their lodgings where the caravan and crew were housed. She checked in with the porters, making sure they were happy, healthy and sober. Along the way she collected Ajjim and Pesala, and Maji for one last tour of the city.

She _did_ have to pull Vahti out of a rougher looking establishment a ways away from Etiyadi's court palace. But that was all in good fun. Together, the group took a lingering route through the markets, civilian streets and so on. The high mountain valley walls were inky black mixed with the fertile greens of volcanic soil crawling up their lowest sides.

While Pesala chattered in her manner most adorable, riding on Ajjim's shoulders or Maji's back by turns, Inks had a few quiet and circumspect questions about the other lords of Coxati. Her charm was... beguiling, making up for her slightly less artful delivery. People were more inclined to talk to the gorgeous woman, after all.   
Slowly, she built up a picture, true or not, of Susili Moto and his lands...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted)  
> ST: ((Okay, roll, hmm... Int+Investigation, base Diff of 2, information dependent on threshold successes))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +4; Inks: [6, 10, 10, 9, 9, 6, 8, 8, 10, 4, 3, 5] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((haha))  
> ST: ((what))  
> Inks: (I'm BACK baby!)  
> ST: ((jfc you're nuts))  
> ST: ((okay, uhhhh))  
> ST: ((Is she focusing more on his lands, or Moto himself?))  
> ST: ((obviously both, but which is she _more_ interested in?))  
> Inks: (Moto himself. Mostly because I want to get to the bottom of why the Despot says 'Inks NO')  
> ST: ((So that you can go "Inks YES", I assume))  
> Inks: (Or at least decide if YESing is worth the risk)  
> 

* * *

It was time well spent, and Inks was beset on all sides by stories. The general impression she got was that of a man whose reckless genius made him more enemies than allies; a passion and natural talent for engineering that might even exceed her own tied to an ego that dwarfed Maji's.

Susili Moto was in his early fifties, and had ruled his domain for more than twenty years since the deaths of both his parents in a mine collapse. The blood of Dragons had always run strong in his family, and he'd taken the Second Breath from Paisap's lungs in his grief. He'd then, from the sounds of it, spent the entire time since building up the technology of his kingdom, restoring Shogunate ruins, delving for lost knowledge about ancient works of artifice and pissing off just about everyone who met him.

It had been an annoyingly successful strategy, to hear Etiyadi's people tell it. He wasn't much _liked_, but the technology he provided was incredibly valuable, and so he was tolerated - or perhaps a better phrasing would be endured. His capital was based around the nexus of an old Shogunate railway, and he'd restored several engines that drove the mechanisms there, as well as getting trains running on the lines again and expanding the mining that had brought his people profit.

Apparently his gift for angering people extended even to inanimate landscape features, because Inks heard a few rumours that he'd evidently earned the ire of the mountain that the railway tunnels led through, and restricted any more digging into its depths. Inks wasn't sure whether or not to believe that tidbit - the people she heard it from were rather too pleased about him getting his comeuppance to care much about fact-checking - but she thought there might be a seed of truth to it.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I am getting the distinct impression that Rankar said 'Inks NO' because he'd figure that Solar + Shogunate Infrastructure = Impossible Threat... or that Inks would immediately husbando Moto. Maybe Both.)  
> ST: ((:P))  
> 

Inks eased back into Pipera's improvised office, idly munching on a skewer of smoked meat that Pesala _swore_ was a gift of the gods. Her tiger-god blood might've offered a bias, but it _was_ pretty good. "Well that was productive, how're you doing Pipera?"

>   
> ST: ((Let's see! Manipulation 5 + Presence 1 + Subtle Zephyr-Whisper Style 3 + 4 dice from Presence Excellency, enhancing with Friend-to-All-Nations Technique.))  
> ST: !ex 13; ST: [7, 8, 4, 10, 7, 4, 8, 4, 7, 6, 1, 4, 8] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> 

Pipera's final draft was a beautifully-written letter whose calligraphy and decoration was a work of art, courteously introducing Inks' convoy and their purpose in flowing prose. She allowed Inks to read through it as a final opinion, and sealed it with a flourish.

"Now, we can give this to a courier and be on our way. Shall we?"

"Indeed!"

* * *

>   
> Inks: (So scenebreak to Xandia?)  
> ST: ((Nope, not yet.))  
> ST: ((Okay, I haven't had time to do routes around the Coxati territory, so we'll say for expediency's sake that you have two choices of route; the fast, risky way {one month, harder on the carts, possibility of freaky animal attack} or the slow, safe way {six weeks, better roads, no real chance of getting jumped by something hungry}.))  
> Inks: (That's honestly all you need as far as meaningful choices. For the sake of fun, let's do the faster route.... Hmm... Idea)  
> Inks: (So if I were the one roughing this out mechanically, I'd break the journey up into intervals, however many you feel is right, and then each interval has like, a roll to see a challenge and then a roll to navigate the challenge, with the former giving bonuses on the latter.)  
> Inks: (What were you thinking of?)  
> ST: ((That was, in fact, more or less what I was thinking.))  
> ST: ((Weekly intervals, I think. Roll is Int+Survival, for navigation. Diff 3.))  
> Inks: (I'm definitely going to count this as training intervals for survival then. Invoking Ajjim and Maji for teamwork bonuses)  
> ST: ((+2, then. Roll the first interval.))  
> 

After reassuring the caravan that she'd take vigilant precautions with the faster route- Inks worked closely with Ajjim and Maji as sentries, while Pipera managed the caravan itself, keeping the six carts and various porters in good marching order. Inks for her part turned her head into the wind, feeling the sometimes sulfuric hint of volcanism on the breeze, along with cool shadowy mountain air.

>   
> Inks: (Stunted as well, figuring +2, so int 5, surv 1, +2 teamwork, +2 stunt, 10d total. Since these are week-long intervals, I don't feel bad about spending 6m on survival.)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [6, 8, 6, 5, 3, 6, 2, 6, 9, 1] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Bah. How dare you be boring and succeed super-well to avoid encounters. :P))  
> ST: ((Second interval?))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> !ex 10 +3; Inks: [6, 4, 4, 4, 8, 7, 7, 9, 6, 7,] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Still more than enough. Okay, third interval.))  
> Inks: (Still lots, Interval 3  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [4, 2, 1, 9, 7, 8, 10, 3, 3, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((You're doing very well at this. Honestly, if you're throwing 3 ExSux at every roll you basically can't fail - if you choose to do that in future just tell me "yeah, I'm gonna autosucceed". Knock the fourth interval out and we'll move on.))  
> Inks: (This whole sequence is a lesson. Like... It's meant to be a 'challenge', but one the ST is as much used to upsell the player as it is be meaningfully taxing on their skills and decisions.)  
> ST: ((Yeah.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [3, 4, 10, 3, 5, 3, 3, 9, 10, 9] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Now, here's my counter-lesson to you)  
> Inks: (part of the advantage of breaking things up into intervals like this, is that you can pause the journey and say 'Something new is happening, take this adjusted penalty!')  
> Inks: (Because, at the core, staggered or extended actions exist do DO that, otherwise you may as well just arbitrate it with a single roll.)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I can actually do something I should have been doing as you were rolling here, hang on.))  
> Inks: (hanging on~)  
> 

All in all it was a peaceful month, albeit a strenuous one. Maji sniffed out a nest of something horrible the first week and under Inks guidance the convoy was able to sneak past quietly enough to avoid disturbing whatever it was. Three hunts over the next fortnight brought home diseased beasts or spoiled plants which would have had half the convoy down sick with illness or poisoning, but Inks' careful attention to detail spotted all three cases and she ordered the spoilt produce burnt.

The last week was the closest to disaster they came, when one of the carts got stuck in a deep pothole and broke an axle, but it wasn't difficult to solve - coordinating everyone to lift it out and then working a little reparative magic on the splintered wood had them moving again within ten minutes.  
  


>   
> ST: ((you may now be smug))  
> Inks: (Max smgu)  
> ST: ((let me get at my notes...))  
> Inks: (It takes [rating x2] weeks to raise a single unfavored dot, so that can boost me up to Survival... Oh hey. I had already bought Surv 2 a while ago, so I'll just train up to Surv 3 over the month)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> 

* * *

Xandia's kingdom was very different to Etiyadi's. They were further into the mountains now, and far enough west that they were out of the most volatile part of Tekutali's volcano chain. The mountains here had fire in their hearts, but for the most part it lurked as smouldering embers. Most of these peaks hadn't spoken in centuries, and many were high enough that snow formed on their heights.

That snow fed a multitude of rivers and streams that turned their path through Xandia's land into a wild space of running water and woodland. Some of the downward streams had bridges over them, but by the time they were approaching the citadel Inks was heartily sick of fording rivers. The smell of damp wood never really went away.

At least the scenery was pretty. Trees clung to slopes that Inks would be hard-pressed to climb up; vertical trunks shooting up from slopes of sixty degrees or more. Where the cliffs and hills were too rocky or too sheer for even the most stubborn of bushes and trees to take root, moss and ivy made thick wall hangings and carpets.

The valleys were wider here, and rich in grass and shrub. Rather than crops, Inks saw herdbeasts filling them - including a lot of goats similar to the riding-beasts whose stampede she'd stopped. They were champion climbers, remarkably unafraid of humans, and a few of their kids clamboured up to greet the caravan, nosing at people until they noticed Maji or Windroarer and scampered off, bleating, for the safety of higher ground.

Xandia's city itself was another surprise. Rather than a valley, it sat on a hilltop, and Inks needed only one look at the white stone and marred, once-circular layout to guess that it was an old Shogunate ruin that had passed down to Xandia's people. Only four tower blocks were still standing; one relatively central with a great fire burning on its roof, the other three arrayed near or next to the walls.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Occult roll, Diff 5))  
> ST: ((to do with the city design))  
> 

Inks whistled softly, sore from a long challenging journey, but energized now that their next destination was in sight. She eyed the towers, the white stone that seemed... self-polished? That wasn't accurate, but it was close. "Huh..."

>   
> Inks: (8m personal on 2nd occult, 8d+2 stunt)  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks: [9, 4, 6, 4, 7, 6, 3, 3, 7, 5] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Threshold 2)  
> 

The walls were remarkably bright and clean for a place where volcanic ashfall happened every few months, but that wasn't what interested her the most. No, it was that what she could see of the city's circular design looked _familiar_. After a few minutes of staring as the caravan trudged closer, she got it.

 _El-Galabi_. The circular geomantic pattern that was built into the city of the dead was similar to this place. Not the same, no... but she'd be very surprised if they weren't related somehow. Had that old monk based his city partly on old Shogunate designs when he built his temple? If so, maybe the sources he'd used might still lie somewhere inside its salt-warded walls.

"Oh this is going to be _good_." Inks grinned. From that fun little detail, she urged her crew onward, towards the urban center. The roads were a mix of gentle switchbacks and crossways, making the move uphill easier but longer.

She took in everything she could, the people, the clothes and culture. The food offered in the markets. Herders moved their flocks through the streets with a grand air, befitting a livestock society. It smelled, but no worse than any urban farm.

Maji and Windroarer were teased and tensed by the wonderful food-beasts, and Inks promised them both purchases of fine cuts or time spent outside the city on a hunt, just so they knew how much she appreciated them. Finally, after asking for some directions, they made their way to Xandia's court.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'd like to Per+Aware for general details on 'Visible stuff', in Xandia, and then we maybe introduce Xandia's court and the lady herself.)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Per+Awa for noticin' stuff))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [8, 6, 1, 3, 2, 10, 4, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

The white stone was bright on the outer walls, but within the city it was hidden under a wild expanse of murals that depicted both forests and beasts. Some were better than others, of course, but Inks was still impressed at the average quality of the art - some of which looked many years or decades old; lovingly maintained.

The people were literate, too. Inks spotted a lot of books among the markets and in the hands of adults and children alike. One group of children they passed sounded like a school class, arrayed in a plaza around a teacher who was reading aloud, sentence by sentence, in the Coxati dialect and central Firetongue - one after the other.

Xandia was to be found in the central tower, which honestly didn't surprise Inks much. She was allowed in alone by the guards, and found Xandia waiting for her in a large room on the second floor that took up almost a quarter of the tower. If Inks had to guess, she'd say it might have been a dining room once, when the tower was new. Now it held a variety of antlers, horns and tusks on the walls, along with a number of woven leather belts; each a different design and each studded with carved bone ornaments.

Xandia herself sat on a wooden chair whose back was carved from dozens of interlocking branches. They looked like antlers, or maybe collectively an ornate leafless tree.  
The thlatht-waeishrun Xand; twenty-third of her line, was as young as she'd been described to Inks, and nowhere near as grand or beautiful as Etiyadi. Short black hair was braided close to her scalp in spiraling cornrows, and she wore umber facepaint that covered her cheeks and forehead in flame patterns. Her clothes were simple; soft tan leather with the exception of a bright crimson scarf wrapped around her throat in an intricate knot. 

Perhaps a dozen people were in the room with her; all older and most significantly more dangerous-looking.

Inks stood before the lord and her court in one of her finer outfits, unapologetically flattering in the vein of 'endearing flirtation'. She bowed, tattoo in display in all its artistic glory. When she rose, she met Xandia's eye with an earnest smile. "Thank you for granting me this audience. "

"I've come as envoy of Gem, and I represent numerous private interests there, as well as bringing a diplomatic missive from your neighboring lord Saudari Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth." She smiled, bright and brazen. "Could I interest you in wealth and prestige?"

Xandia's eyebrow rose. "There are things I value more," she said. Her voice held a heavier accent than Etiyadi's, and despite the soft tone Inks could see the way her advisors followed every syllable.

Inks nodded. "I understand. You value knowledge as well, and I heard a great deal of your people's commitment to excellence and enlightenment." She tacitly did not acknowledge Xandia's goal of unification yet, but it was on the forefront of Inks's mind nonetheless. "I am scholar, sorcerer, a doctor of no small skill. I would be happy to share that with you and your people."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So, magically speaking, crack mending technique doesn't care what's broken, it just fixes it. There's really no mechanic that says Inks can't fix something, so in theory, I could offer to repair the towers. Your thoughts?)  
> ST: ((Which towers? The ones that aren't standing anymore?))  
> Inks: (yeah, the flame on the standing one seemed magical at a glance)  
> Inks: (so logically, if I fix the other towers, something cool might happen, but I did not want to overtly offer it just yet)  
> Inks: (As stands right now, I'm leaning into what seems like an intellectual streak that Xandia and her people hold)  
> ST: ((Well, there's an issue with the collapsed ones re: "the collapsed bits have all long since been salvaged and used to build other stuff", so there's nothing to repair them _with_. And while I'm willing to give you "reassembling a half-burnt piece of paper", conjuring up hundreds of tonnes of Shogunate super-concrete is a hard no.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, that makes sense)  
> 

Inks' second volley brought a faint smile to the young leader's face. "The torchkeepers certainly welcome medical knowledge, and we've heard of your expertise. Your time will be appreciated if you spend it with them - I'm sure they'll have many questions for you." Her hand came up to toy with her scarf - Inks noted that her advisors were wearing similar ones, though a deep burgundy instead of bright crimson and not as intricately knotted.

"Gem and the Saudari, then. Which would you like to start with?"

"I see to renew the arrangements between Gem and Coxati, of food and material." She handed a rolled scroll of facts and figures, describing the Despot's position with some cleverly appended inclusions on Inks's part that aimed to smooth the sale. At the core, Rankar wanted more for less, and to be fair that was entirely reasonable from an economic perspective.

Inks however, did her level best to couch it in terms of mutual investment, of enrichment of all parties based on the opening of markets and stronger, reciprocal trade arrangements. She made it clear that she had the ear of the Despot, and was empowered to manage a degree of counter-offer on his behalf, or bring one to him when she finished the trade mission.

She supported all of that by representing the private interests, both her own holdings at that of Gem-the-nation. Her contacts in in Seventh and Eight Scorpion, and so on. She invited the court's financial minds to look over her numbers, confident that they would find them above reproach. "And as you can see, assuming we maintain an aggressive but mutually beneficial angle of investment, we can ensure that all investors get their strong share!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted a 'sell' of the Gem mission)  
> ST: ((Cha+Bur to sell it.))  
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dot stunt vs MDV 7))  
> Inks: (thank you for MDV goodness)  
> Inks: (using 1st presence for +7 dice... Hmm, tutorialize time. I have a Principle of 4 dots for 'Worlds-spanning mercantile empire', does this count? And/or... Reputation/Influence. I haven't put them on Inks's sheet yet)  
> Inks: (but you've basically implied that she's Gem's Painted Beauty [Rating ?] and then something about Piercing Sun's concubine.)  
> Inks: (That was what Etiyadi lead in on with the introductions/court scene)  
> ST: ((Is this aiding Inks building her _own_ mercentile empire, or expanding Gem's? More the latter, as I see it.))  
> Inks: (More the latter, yes, but I did invoke Inks's personal holdings along the way)  
> Inks: (Xandia said 'Gem', and Inks represents multiple parties OF Gem, so...)  
> Inks: (Also, a related question- is Xandia representing a Court with Magnitude here?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay, you can channel that Principle as you would a Virtue - 1wp to add (rating) dice. Painted Beauty-wise, while she does have a reputation (that will be solidified by this trip), it's as a great beauty, a demonologist and someone who's helped heal a known warhawk, none of which apply to trade. Xandia's court is low-end Mag 3; 12-20 people or so who are mostly immediately relevant advisors with expertise in various areas, rather   
> than flunkies there to flatter her.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so if we are engaging in Court v Court action, Inks is effectively Mag 0 (1 under our scale), so Xandia as court-leader gets +2 MDV for the difference. However, I have Mastery of Small MAnners, whicih boosts Inks's Mag 1 by in mass social)  
> ST: ((Indeed. So MDV 8, effectively, which...))  
> Inks: (Secondly, both Xandia and Inks are capped by Socialize, so Xandia's MDV is going to use [Socialize] to calculate, instead of say Presence or Integrity. Inks would in turn be capped at 3 Socialize dice as well.)  
> ST: ((Yup. And - okay, RAI reading here; does the subtraction of external penalties supplied by Evidence-Discerning Method apply to MDVs?))  
> Inks: (No, all of these are MDV modifiers. You can levy an external penalty for things like 'Inks doesn't know about a secret trade deal' or 'Inks doesn't understand the nuances of the language'"  
> ST: ((Fair enough.))  
> Inks: (So Inks is App 6 now due to MosM, Mag 2. Socialize 3, so Cha + 3 +5 from excellency +4 from Principle, +2 from stunt. No applicable styles)  
> Inks: !ex 16 ;Inks: [10, 10, 4, 5, 10, 8, 8, 4, 1, 5, 10, 3, 3, 9, 1, 9] was rolled for 12 successes.  
> Inks: (Now conversely, if Xandia tries to social-influence Inks, she gets [magnitude difference] autosux on her roll.)  
> 

Xandia leant back against her carved-tree throne. Her face gave nothing away as she considered Inks' offer, and she took her time doing so.

"Undoubtedly," she said, "this trade you propose would work. If you've come from the Saudari I don't doubt you have her on board, so my goods could reach your markets. My livestock would lessen your dependence on Lord Pangasutri's herds, and you have more than enough money to pay for them."

She nodded. "Yes, you're right that I could profit from this deal. But. It would need time. Attention. Diplomacy to keep the routes open, organization and focus to maintain. All these, I could spend elsewhere - closer to home, on uniting the Coxati. You've convinced me that your deal would work, Inks, but you haven't told me why I should trade with Gem in the first place. My main concern right now is not to gain wealth, and it does not lie outside Coxati borders."  
  


>   
> ST: ((And Inks' speech goes "ping" and bounces off Xandia's Motivation, which Inks can tell is "Unite the Coxati under my leadership". As she sees it right now, yes, a Gem trade deal would be profitable, but it would be spending resources on dealing with a non-Coxati state a long way away when she's busy trying to wrangle seven mountain lords under one throne, and thus she thinks it would be a distraction to her goals.))  
> 

"Ah, but wealth is itself a means to an end, a stable foundation to pursue interests both at home and abroad." Once the ice was broken, so to speak, Inks moved into a much easier mode of thought and action. "You seek to unite the Coxati- and I will say right now that I would need more information to formulate a full opinion- but you have not unified them yet." She paused, humming.

"There are logistical concerns, most likely. It's hard to project power between valleys- it took my caravan a month to get here on a rougher, faster route. And I do doubt that you want to conquer by force of arms?" Inks found a chair and pulled it around so she could sit facing Xandia, looking up at her in the ornate throne.

"And I have a fair reason to believe that all the Coxati states value their independence. I can tell you right now that the Saudari has requested I convince you to moderate your vision of unification. I would very much like to return with good news, but I might not." She smiled, bringing out her sunniest smile to disarm the blunt declaration.

"The point though- my goal, specifics aside, is to help _everyone_ , as many people as I can, come out ahead. Tell me please- what does unification do for you and your people."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm amused that most of these scenes are developing into lengthy speeches, in fine social combat tradition)  
> ST: ((Good way of getting information across, and it characterizes a lot more than "I make a really good speech to her". :P))  
> Inks: (Aye, but sometimes brevity is worth more than a thousand words)  
> 

Xandia smiled, and there was something uncomfortably like triumph in it. "I've been working on unification for less than half a decade," she pointed out. "And I've already made significant progress. There are many ways to bring cultures together, and I'm young. I can afford to be patient."

"Unification will stop our squabbling and petty wars, it will end the cycles of retaliation and grudge-holding between the different kingdoms. It _will_ happen. Etiyadi wants me to moderate precisely _because_ she knows I can do it. She wants to cling to her kingdom and her crown in the event that I weld enough of her neighbours together to force her to heel, and you can tell her that she will have as much privilege as any coalition-lord - enough to rule, but not so much that she cannot be overruled."

Listening to her, Inks made the uncomfortable realization that she was talking to a woman as firm in her convictions and determination as she was herself - and probably about as intelligent, unless Inks drew on Sun-bright brilliance.

Leaning forward, awkward epiphany or not, Inks grinned. A challenge! "Interesting perspective..."

"Then this is a question of ensuring both your courts meet and agree. I can understand the appeal of unification, centralized authority, but I support independence as well..." She trailed off, not wanting to speak _too_ politically in a first meeting. "I like to think of myself as a problem solver, and I'd be happy to offer whatever insight I can. If I could review your diplomatic history, I could perhaps advance your goals and Saudari's, in addition to my own."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'm aiming to convince her 'let me troubleshoot for you as an outside actor. I might segue into more of a mediator later between all of Coxati, depends on how embroiled I want to get in this plot)  
> 

Xandia cocked her head, and Inks saw that formidable intelligence turning the request over and examining it. "If you wish to see our records, I'll allow you a visit with my bookkeepers," she decided with a nod over Inks' head to one of her advisors - the youngest of them, in fact; a woman not much older than Inks. "You can spend your time with them and with the torchkeepers and be more informed for our next discussion."

It was a dismissal, albeit a fairly gentle one.

Inks accepted it with a pleased grin, bowed, and introduced herself to the indicated advisor as she left the chamber. Maybe not a perfect start, but a solid one nonetheless!  
  


>   
> ST: ((Access to Xandia's archives; GOT.))  
> Inks: (yay!)  
> Inks: (About how much time left do we have in the session?)  
> ST: ((Maybe half an hour?))  
> Inks: (Alright, then I'll do an Investigation action on the archives. How long in game time do you think it'll take?)  
> ST: ((Depends how deep Inks wants to go. She'll be told quite proudly that the people of Xand are the most literate of the Coxati tribes, and that means they have a loooot of records. She's not allowed to look at the majority of them, only the diplomatic "inter-clan relations" history stuff, but that's still a pretty impressive amount of reading material. Which she will need the help of a translator for.))  
> Inks: (Which would ideally be Pipera, and does the advisor-minder have a name?)  
> Inks: (Mostly I'm angling to see if I can spend 6 days researching, as that means I can train up Crafty-Observation Method, which means Inks can scan a crime scene for clues super-fast)  
> Inks: (but if it's not six days of effort, then I'll just maybe do something else)  
> ST: ((Pipera's actually more focused on geographic breadth rather than historical depth. And the advisor-minder will be the young lady Xandia indicated, whose name is Snow Yarn and is technically the understudy to the actual head of the archives, who is old and cranky and doesn't come to meetings anymore.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, Well I meant that Pipera can translate, right, I guess not?)  
> ST: ((Call it, hmm. A day for the most abbreviated of skim-readings, a week for a basic generalist view and a month to get some really in-depth knowledge about things like systematic "whys" and the second-order details of the politics of various time periods.))  
> ST: ((... systematic? Systemic?))  
> ST: ((Recurring and entrenched.))  
> Inks: (Oooh that's good, I appreciate that level of granularity. I will start with a week.)  
> ST: ((I assume she'll meet the medical group as well? By which I mean she won't have much of a choice; they'll come to her. :P))  
> Inks: (agreed, (if Pipera is not required for the translating, I'll have her schedule meetings and generally do executive assistant stuff as well. Minor business deals, looking for advantageous things for Inks to personally attend to, etc)  
> ST: ((Okay, I'd like to do on screen bits for both of these, so we probably won't get to another Xandia meeting this session. Which first; medics or library?))  
> Inks: (Library, writing the stunt. I'm gonna describe the scene a bit too because I got some ideas)  
> ST: ((Alright, but be aware I may alter details.))  
> 

* * *

A lower floor in Xandia's tower palace had been converted to a grand archive- a library of both great knowledge and government assets. The stacks were twice as tall as Inks was, requiring strong ladders to reach the highest books- it spoke a lot of the land's culture that they maintained such a tradition of bookbinding and archival knowhow...

Sunlight peeked in through tiny keyhole windows at the top of the space, angled just so to cast light over a reader's shoulders at special desks set in just the right place. Maybe it had always been a reading room, or had been converted further in some distant past, Inks didn't know.

With Snow Yarn keeping a wide but attentive eye on Inks's efforts, she was treated to a display of casual Solar brilliance that people like Pipera had started to take as a given. By spending a week carefully pouring over diplomatic packages, fastidious records and more, she built a picture of Xandia's five year effort to unify the Coxati states.

It was ambitious. Inks moved through the towering stacks with no small amount of awe, bemused and inspired by turns.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Ah. So she's looking at Xandia's campaign specifically, rather than the general history of how the Coxati states have interacted with each other in the past?))  
> Inks: (For the moment yeah)  
> Inks: (I can always look for more information later)  
> Inks: (unless something stops me)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay, Int+Investigation.))  
> ST: ((2-dot stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 22 "10m personal"; Inks: [8, 6, 7, 9, 8, 2, 2, 5, 1, 9, 1, 6, 6, 9, 9, 1, 5, 9, 9, 3, 9, 1] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> 

Xandia hadn't been kidding about her successes. Her predecessor; Axandar, had been similarly stubborn, but rather than unification he'd been focused on a bitter project of militarization and sabre-rattling. Ten years ago, the borders had been different, and Axandar had squabbled over a contested area to the southeast with Pangasutri. Both sides had aggressively fought over the region, and the spending made Inks wince.

Then Xandia had come to power. Rather than continuing the sabre rattling and forceful pseudo-diplomatic manouveres, she'd declared open war for long enough to seize what she wanted to keep and then ceded what she didn't to Etiyadi and Akna; putting a solid gap of nearly a hundred miles between her and the furious Pangasutri. Then she'd turned her efforts northwest and opened diplomatic lines with the two most western lords she bordered; Huitzilin and Eztli.

Inks got the sense that the records she was being shown were missing a fair amount of information, but what they did have showed a brilliant mind with a bewildering depth of experience and expertise. Perhaps the libraries here held more than just records or perhaps Xandia had _very_ good advisors, but there was no way a girl of less than twenty should have been able to navigate rocky political territory like Inks could see her doing in the letters and documents she was shown.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, from what Inks can make out))  
> ST: ((Xandia has Huitzilin and Eztli more or less onboard with her ideas of a coalition - they haven't actually knelt to her yet, but she's got strong alliances with them and reading between the lines, Inks thinks they've agreed to do so once she's got enough lords on her side to make a ceremony of it. Pangasutri hates her but she's given up some territory to effectively make him fight two wars at once if he wants to get at her, and Etiyadi   
> and Akna are both semi-favourably inclined to her.))  
> Inks: (Fascinating)  
> Inks: (Now the medical circle meeting? Torchbearers, Xandia called them?)  
> ST: ((Torchkeepers. Hmm.))  
> ST: ((It's actually getting late, so I'd like to call the session there if that's okay?))  
> Inks: (That's fine!)  
> Inks: was fun today!   
> Inks: XP?  
> ST: 4xp+1mxp  
> ST: ^_^  
> Inks: Huzzah  
> Inks: So, I did want to mention something as a direct suggestion  
> ST: shoot  
> Inks: while I was thinking about the 'research investigation' stunt, it occurred to me that as the storyteller, this is the kind of opportunity for a new kind of Drama/Intrigue/Upset  
> ST: Hmm?  
> Inks: specifically, what if someone tried to stab Inks in the stacks?  
> ST: Heh  
> ST: True dat  
> Inks: Suddenly it's Personal- it's an attack on her, it's Intrigue  
> Inks: It's... you know Chandler's Law, obviously? It's kind of like that, in a macro and micro sense.  
> Inks: Now, the challenge of course, is making sure that the game doesn't derail negatively or stagnate.  
> ST: Yeah.  
> Inks: Mind you, I am violating a cardinal rule of GMing  
> Inks: "Don't give your GM Ideas."  
> ST: : 3  
> Inks: (This is only good advice in context of systems like DnD that have a different kind of tenuous encounter balance)  
> Inks: I personally-though no fault of your own, have been feeling 'back foot' as Inks for a few sessions, so I'm trying to push back into more brazen 'Win more' actions  
> Inks: i think part of the challenge is that I'm starving for information, but I also don't want to bog the game down asking for lots of it.  
> ST: Yup, fair enough  
> Inks: You're giving me plenty of info, btw, but It's on me as a player to parse it and make a meaningful decision  
> ST: Right  
> Inks: I think.... actually, this expands on the 'hyper-cautious' mentality that I've brought up before  
> Inks: A lot of people, myself included, have an impression that being subtle and circumspect is COOL  
> Inks: that it's Dramatic or Awesome that someone gets a lot done with a little bit of effort  
> Inks: or that being sneaky is inherently more clever than brute force or overt action  
> Inks: "Smart people are subtle."  
> Inks: "My character is smart, therefore she should act smart. How does she act?"  
> Inks: In hindsight, I think I've realized that Inks's core personality is more like how I portrayed Asuka in CiG- her brilliance is that of the obvious conclusion, the outsider perspective. "So it's This" and everyone dope-slaps.  
> Inks: But the challenge with that portrayal is that I am actually not as smart as you are, and your plots are a lot more complex, so I can't pull that off... that's on me though, heh!  
> Inks: this comes back to that challenge of stunting and characterization  
> Inks: "I write a good speech" versus *in character dialog that is a good speech*  
> ST: Hmm.  
> ST: The thing is, often what I'm looking for isn't so much a speech as a, mm, direction.  
> ST: I'll see if I can expand in the postmortem with some more thought.  
> Inks: Aye, and I've been trying to underline that with my OOC summaries too  
> Inks: during each action when asking for the roll or whatnot  
> Inks: I use the phrase 'game action' a lot to describe this sort of thing- 'what is your mechanical goal'  
> Inks: Anyway, I'm going to learn Crafty Observation Method under Solar Invest for 8xp  
> 


	31. Session 31: The Torchkeepers of Xandia

Research wasn't the only thing Inks squeezed into her crowded week. Pipera had a number of business dealings she was occupying her time with, but wasn't so busy that she couldn't spare a supper time meeting for a talk with her employer.

And time was important- Inks declined to make the meal herself this time in the interest of maximizing Pipera's precious advisement. Xandia's provided lodgings looked a bit more like a hunting lodge, replete with trophies of local game.

The walls were cut stone though, and the furniture lovingly carved and lacquered wood- the Coxati crafts were a generational affair. Inks poured another tumbler of local wine and hummed. "So I'm confident I can do... any number of things, but I'm trying to strike the right balance of support."

She nursed the cup with a wry grin. "Like, I personally don't feel threatened by a united Coxati, but we both can assume Gem might be? So with that in mind, I don't want to promise unilateral support just yet if ever, but..." She shrugged, hoping Pipera had an idea or two.

Pipera pursed her lips and ran a hand through white-fringed blue braids. "Uniting the Coxati is a big goal," she said clinically. "Honestly, when I heard about it first I thought it was a ludicrous one - on paper, there's no way she should be able to do it. That she seems to have two clans roughly aligned with her already is surprising, but I'm still not sure she _can_ succeed at bringing in all eight."

She paused meaningfully. "At least not alone. Your help might make or break her ambition - which she may or may not be willing to admit. You're certainly right that Gem wouldn't react well, and neither would Cahzor; for all that it still matters. Dragons only know what your Elemi warhawk is getting up to, or what he might once he hears of this."

Drumming her fingers, Pipera fixed Inks with an uncharacteristically frank look. "I agreed to work for you knowing that you'd crash into regional politics one way or another, and this is only a little sooner than expected, but I can't do anything unless _you_ know what you're doing. You say you don't feel threatened by a united Coxati - that doesn't answer whether you're for or against it. Do you _have_ an answer to that question, Inks?"

Inks toasted her regarding Piercing Sun. "I plan on curbing his excesses as best I can- honestly I'd actually appreciate his advice in a military capacity for exactly that reason. He's competent, after all.... As for Coxati..."

She leaned back in her chair, nodding once. "For the moment, I am would support unification. Or at least stronger and more symmetrical bonds between the states. I want to see improvement in quality of life, in as many places as I can."

Pipera accepted that with a nod, focusing her gaze more on her food than Inks' rather revealing attire now that her main question was out of the way. "Then it's a question of how far you're willing to go to support it, and where your lines are drawn concerning price. If you're not willing to promise unilateral support, that's one limit already established - work out the rest. Xandia is young, but she's almost as irritatingly clever as you. You need to know your position before you go in for any more talks with her, or you won't know when you're giving ground."

She closed her eyes for a moment to savour the tenderness and flavour of the meat before continuing. "You'll also want to work out how to resolve the disagreement she has with Saudari Etiyadi - and nip any accusations of bias in the bud, given your _friendship_ with her." She rolled her eyes, making abundantly clear what she thought of Inks' 'friendship' with the volcano's ruling lady.

Inks smirked, almost breaking out into a muted snicker before agreeing. "I have wants and desires, I won't apologize. Much." She nodded more seriously. "I do agree though that I have to be circumspect. Or lean into it as an angle."

She paused for a moment, taking a few bites of her own meal before continuing. "Okay, limits... I would limit my public involvement to intellectual pursuits- medical exchanges, contract work, and so on. Actually that reminds me- there was that dam we noticed during the trip here. I don't want to offer fixing it without attaching a price- But do you have the means to maybe hint to Xandia's court that I could take a look at it? It'd be more advantageous if she brought it up. Anyway, limits..."

Pipera actually looked mildly irked for a moment. "I've met with some of her court, but I haven't had a chance to talk to Xandia herself face-to-face yet. And wherever she holds her meetings, it's got some sort of protection against the wind carrying words out." She looks entirely unrepentant about the tacit admission of attempting to spy on their host's private conversations.

"But I'll see if I can put a few words into a few ears the conventional way," she continued. "The dam would be a large engineering project, so unless your stone-growing spell works on that scale you'd have to extend your trip or leave it for a few years. Medical offerings could work, I suppose. You have a meeting with her cult of doctors and healers tomorrow, don't you?"

"I do have a meeting yes- and as far as the dam, I was thinking of Hopping Puppeteers. The only logistical hurdle is quarrying the stone, and they're not very good at digging. I can summon Basilisk dogs though, or a metody and arrange for some kind of acid-cutting project."

Finishing her plate and setting it aside, Inks topped off her glass of wine and offered to do the same for Pipera with a grateful look. She turned back to sounding out her political stance towards Xandia and Coxati.

"Limiting public support to intellectual pursuits and contract work; I'm fine with being a semi-public mediator between all Coxati states; a somewhat neutral ambassador that can speak between them on contentious issues..."

"I'm not going to declare public unilateral support to Xandia, but I am more than willing to... 'my discretion' is an honest choice of word. I think I'll go with that unless you object. I am going to offer backroom support to Xandia's agenda at my discretion- put more simply, if I don't agree with the help Xandia wants, I want to assure her that I can still help her another way, without putting me in a bind. "

While Pipera closed her eyes in a pained sort of way when Inks suggested the demons, the rest of her ideas meet with what seems to be approval, or at least acceptance. "Is there anything else you want me to look into, between small sales?" her aide asked as they started on the last of the food.

"Hmm." Inks thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Just two more things- the first is that my plan to sway Xandia is to establish local trade companies for caravan operations between the city-states, and then let everyone trade with Eityadi as the outgoing leg towards Gem and the rest of Creation. If you could start some of the groundwork on that, I'd appreciate it."

"The other thing... do I upset you? Am I... doing something wrong?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception+Socialize to read her reaction; MDV 11))  
> Inks: (just to clarify, not using the read motivation from 2e? it would be Inks's per+soc rolled against's Pipera's Manip+Soc/2 + stunt)  
> Inks: (I'm game either way, I just want to know first)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I'm basically assuming from the corebook description that Socialize applies to more than just Motivation, since it's laid out as "understanding the feelings and motives of others" and we're using it as a social bottleneck - which fits the same sort of pattern. She's boosting her MDV with Excellencies, which Inks can probably guess just from how inhumanly well-controlled and unreadable her face is.))  
> Inks: (Also Mastery of Small Manners has it's effect of 'The character understands the basic motivations of everyone present in the scene, as if she had rolled 3+ on Read Motivation'; (Got it, internalizing interpretation)  
> ST: ((Yes, but that's a basic motivation while this is a rather more complex reaction to something Inks has said.))  
> Inks: !ex 20 "Per 5 Soc 3 +8 +2 stunt"; Inks: [10, 1, 8, 9, 5, 2, 5, 3, 10, 9, 6, 4, 3, 5, 8, 3, 4, 6, 6, 10] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> 

Pipera's reaction was so _without_ reaction; so impenetrably cryptic, that it couldn't be the result of anything other than Exalted excellence backing up her poker face. And the fact that she felt the need to draw such a veil over her feelings told Inks something in and of itself, in a way. Nobody put on a mask of that calibre if there was nothing but honest confusion to hide.

"You're not doing anything wrong," Pipera said neutrally, and Inks thought that _perhaps_ there might be the slightest of emphasis on 'doing', if she wasn't hearing wrong. "You're not what I expected you to be, and I'm secure and content in my employment with you."

Every word was precise; carefully chosen and set down like a Gateway piece. But if Pipera was lying, Inks couldn't tell. Maybe whatever was upsetting her - if indeed there was something, and she wasn't just being slightly more exasperated and sarcastic than usual - was something unrelated to Inks after all.

Inks considered her executive for a moment, not able to suppress the frown of disappointment- in herself, honestly. "I... On the one hand I don't want to push you, but on the other I think there's a time for frankness. I'm not fighting the dead enough for your liking, yes?"

The impenetrable wall relaxed slightly. "I signed up on the agreement that you would take steps to secure the South against them," Pipera agreed. "While I'm not..." she paused again, picking her words carefully, "... _complaining_ about your alliance with the exorcist, since she seems to have the right attitude even if she's Dead or similar herself, you've done little about El Galabi, save perhaps healing Elemi Piercing Sun."

Inks nodded. "It eats at me that I've left it alone this long, but as it stands now, it would be an undertaking of decades to cleanse it with my resources. I wanted to pursue greater secrets of sorcery before I pushed harder against it." She smiled though. "Xandia is an opportunity though- the local architecture is similar to El-Galabi, so I was aiming to do some research and glean insight. "

"Cleansing it is one thing; getting rid of the things _in_ it is another," pointed out Pipera. "I'm not happy about that monster the exorcist said is resident there. And I'm worried, now, that Elemi will decide to go after it. I can think of a lot of ways that could end in disaster." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Just... promise me you'll make some preparations for an outbreak. Not necessarily from there, either. Aiming for the power to cleanse shadowlands whole is good, but not if you're not prepared to deal with a horde of Dead things pouring out of one before you get that strong."

"...Oh. Oh!" She let out a short laugh. "I'm... an idiot!" She laughed a bit harder, taking a few more sips of wine to calm down. "I completely misunderstood you. Oh... I feel awful now."

"Okay... When you can, check in with your contacts back in Gem to see how things are going. I'm going to probably send an Infallible Messenger or two as well, to Carsa and the Despot's court. Not the man himself- I'd rather not inflict Maji on him in the privy."

"Anyway- okay, clearing El Galabi of it's infestation. A smaller goal... I don't want to leave Coxati before securing a better deal than Gem had before, but I understand better what you want now. I'm sorry, Pipera." She bowed as best she could in her chair- and likely would've offered a hug if the Outcaste was at all touch-friendly.  
  


>   
> ST: ((I should point out that Pipera _does_ want shadowlands sealed. She's just concerned that Inks is overfocusing on that goal and failing to prepare for, say, a horde of gibbering Lesser Dead getting out through a recent battlefield or something similar.))  
> Inks: (I noticed that, but it's still a point of self-recrimination for Inks, wanting to do something in one fell swoop instead of stages)  
> ST: ((Yeah, just confirming that it's an "and" rather than an "instead".))  
> Inks: (That was totally clear)  
> Inks: (Looking forward to Pipera's reaction though~)  
> 

Pipera seemed happier at that, closing the dinner with more warmth than she'd displayed since before they'd left Etiyadi's capital, and and Inks was in a better mood as she went to meet the torchkeepers the following morning.

* * *

As it turned out, Xandia's cult of medics, doctors and healers occupied one of the other remaining Shogunate towers in the city; whose sides - in contrast to the usual flora-and-fauna motif - were richly decorated with patterns of flame and pictures of jewelled or painted skulls.

Inks got a warm reception from the flamekeepers, who clustered in orange-red robes to meet her at the door and welcome her in. The wards she could see into as she passed were light and airy, and the patients looked to be treated well. There was some sort of chain of hierarchy among her hosts that dealt with the metal and shape of the flame-shaped bindis they all wore, but the details were lost in the hubbub as copper-flame apprentice healers peered at her around doorways and gold-browed masters led her upstairs.

The man in the uppermost ward; which Inks reached by a rope-drawn lift, wore a flame-bindi of green jade, and Inks vaguely recognised him from Xandia's court. He greeted her with a low bow after finishing a check-up with a patient behind a set of standing screens, and introduced himself as Maleb; the current Keeper of the Torch.

"Heya!" Inks bowed as well, the very picture of enthused and impressed. "This is a fantastic establishment." She looked around, taking it all in, wondering what she could borrow for her own projects.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll to make some basic deductions about the cult's beliefs from her observations of the art on the walls and the care given here, if she wishes.))  
> ST: ((Perception+Occult; successes give details.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks: [1, 9, 9, 7, 3, 10, 8, 1, 8, 6] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> 

The metaphor of life-as-flame was a clear one that ran through all the cult's belief - even the name suggested their self-appointed duty of tending to their patients as one might feed and stoke a campfire. From what Inks had seen of their equipment and practices on the way up, their primary expertise looked like surgery and trauma wounds; their beds were replete with broken limbs, sewn-up wounds and the telltale marks of minor surgeries.

Feeding the flames they cared for with medicines and drugs was within their scope - there were plenty of sick wards on standby - but Inks guessed they leaned more towards prevention than cure in that area. They certainly had the risk of infection handled, given their standards of hygiene.

"This place really is amazing..." Inks hummed, taking it all in. "Have you given much thought into expansion, or academic exchange with other institutions?"

"There are no others with our expertise in the Coxati lands," Maleb told her with a certain level of pride. "And we have a sacred duty here, so it is here that we are rooted. But come! This is our private ward, housing those patients who are... unique in ways that challenge us. Perhaps you can shed light on their afflictions and share your knowledge with us."

Inks grinned. "Of course, lead on!" 

There were three patients currently resident in the ward, each sectioned off by folding screens from the centre of the room. The first was a middle-aged man who looked superficially normal, until Maleb drew the curtains and pulled back the thick woolen cover over his left leg. At first Inks thought it was tangled in vines, but no - they were actually growing _into_ his leg; plunging under the skin and out again to wrap everything below his knee up in a crisscrossing mass of runners and leaves.

"They're wound between the bones of his shin," Maleb told her quietly, careful not to wake the patient. "He said he stepped in it in the deep forest some way to the west of the capital, and that it looked like an ordinary vine runner until it lashed up into his leg. He cut it off, but wasn't able to remove the cutting - by the time he got back here it was too established to remove. We're able to help with the pain, but extracting it entirely is beyond us."

"Hmmm..." Inks nodded once, before taking a few careful minutes to asses the situation. She gently probed the leg, where the vines grew into the flesh. There was a chart nearby,and she had to ask a few questions about the local terminology, but soon she had a diagnosis.  
  


>   
> Inks:(Flawless Diagnosis, 5 minute mode. Do I have enough info to diagnose, and what keyword am I looking at?)  
> ST: ((You do. This is effectively Crippling-keyworded, and in practice requires complex enough surgery that he'd either lose the leg or bleed out from a major artery if they tried to cut into it. The vine is still alive, appears to be feeding on nutrients in his blood, and has nothing unnatural to Creation in it - that is, it's not demonic or Wyld-tainted or anything, just a particularly horrible species of parasitic... uh... vine.))  
> ST: ((This is partly a tutorial for "beyond-mortal medical problems", so we shall move onto the other two if Inks wants to give an initial reaction.))  
> 

Inks sucked on her teeth. "I can't say I've heard of this plant, but all the particulars are here." She cast about for paper and ink and quickly wrote out her findings, before asking to see the next patient.

The second patient needed two beds. She was _huge_ , and Inks immediately pegged her as something more than a normal human. If she'd been standing, Inks would have been craning her neck back to look up at the nine-and-a-half foot woman, who was broad enough across the shoulders that she could imagine the cots creaking under her and whose skin had a dull hue to it of midnight blue beneath the dark brown.

Unlike the first man, this patient was awake - and grumbling, in a dialect and thick accent Inks' ear couldn't penetrate. She barked something at Maleb with ill grace, moving to sit further up before wincing and sinking back down again.

"A back injury some months ago," Maleb explained after placating her. "We cared for the initial wound without issue, but it isn't healing as it should be, and we're not sure why. I'm afraid we know little about her kinsmen, and nothing we've tried has worked."

"I may want to bring my associate here, she might be able to translate-" Inks offered as she went through the diagnosis. Pain, paralysis, hard to say at first glance, but...  
  


>   
> Inks: (FDT again, hit me)  
> ST: ((It's muscle damage to the back from a deep cut that's been expertly cared for, and really should have knitted together almost-as-good-as-new. Unfortunately she's not human - or rather, she's something weird like a godblooded or a beastman or something, with the decidedly-non-human bit being something Inks has never seen before, and she needs something for healing that she isn't getting. So mechanically she's Untreated/missing a necessary component, and what knitting together the muscles have managed is weak and not supporting her spine properly.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so does this count as a successful diagnosis for any treatment I attempt, or do I need to go on a quest to find her elixier?)  
> ST: ((You're missing information on exactly what she _is_ that you'll need to work out what she's missing.))  
> ST: ((If the first one was Abnormal Problem, this one is Abnormal Patient. :P))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 

Confronted with the challenge at hand, Inks hummed. She took the time to really assess her patient- her build, the nature of her physique and more. She was the picture of soothing decorum, not that the bedridden woman appreciated it much. Even so she gathered more and more insight.

Tools were offered at her request to take samples of hair and blood, along with thaumaturgic reagents and testing supplies. It was all heavily based on the use of heat and smoke as a diagnostic medium, and Inks had to rely on Maleb to give her a foundation- but once she had it, reading the smoke curls of ember-heated locks of hair became second nature.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Occult stunt to diagnose what this gal is)  
> ST: ((How long are you taking on this before moving on to the next patient?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Well, dramatic actions areusually 15m, 1 hour, 5 hour or Whatnot. Does taking more time give me a bonus, or am I required to take a minimum amount of time?)  
> ST: ((Partly it determines how much you're capable of getting from your analysis, and more practically if you intend to hang around for an hour doing testing, Malab will probably gently suggest moving on to have a look at the last patient before getting deeply involved with puzzling over any of them in particular.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, then how about we say that the testing takes time to cook and I can diagnose while that's going.)  
> ST: ((A solid plan!))  
> 

Setting the tests to percolate, Inks move back to the last patient.

The quick assessments revealed little on their own, and the slower ones would take time to process, so Inks moved onto the last resident of the ward while she waited for the blood drops to finish evaporating on their metal plate. The Keeper of the Torch peered carefully past the folding screen for this one, and held a finger to his lips as he beckoned her past them and trod quietly over to a frail young woman with a close-cropped buzz of hair that had spiraling mandala-lines cut into it. She'd been reading, but must have fallen asleep mid-page, because the book had fallen to the floor beside her and her head lolled to the side on one of the many pillows that supported her in a sitting position.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Soc Read Feeling roll, Diff 3))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [2, 9, 2, 9, 4, 7, 8, 5] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

There was pain etched on the woman's face - in sleep she looked older than her years, despite being younger than Inks - but more interesting was the grief on Malab's. Whoever this was, he was much more attached to her and invested in her health than the other two; enough that it was cracking his genial bedside manner. Unfortunately, despite his care the two of them weren't quiet enough, and she stirred and opened hazel eyes.

"Oh," she said softly with a smile that transformed her face. "Hello Malab. Sorry, I fell asleep reading again." She blinked up at Inks. "Who's this?"

"My name is Inks- I'm visiting and I wished to see this wonderful place." She smiled, her winsome and charming best. "I've been invited to consult, if you give me just a few minutes of your time."

"Priscia," returned the woman, tilting her head towards Inks with a beaming smile that faltered partway through into an uncomfortable shudder. "Ah, have at it then. But tell me about..." she stifled a yawn, "... mm, how you got the name. Is it from your tattoos?"

Grinning. "Yeah, I changed my name when I left Nexus. My tattoos were an art piece by a Lesser Elemental Dragon of Water, Alakananda. She taught me a lot about the world. Of magic and the deep secrets of Creation. It took weeks, even for a spirit." As she spoke, Inks carefully evaluated every twinge of pain, labored muscle and quickened breath. "I was sore and covered in balms for days afterwords too."

Priscia listened with delighted interest, asking further questions and begging for more elaboration on the fantastical parts of 'Nanda's tutelage. Inks answered indulgently as her heart sank. There were no torn muscles or broken bones here; nothing that balms or bandages would cure.

No, Inks concluded. This problem lay within. There was a tumour inside Priscia's skull, pressing against her brain. Her drowsiness and difficulty staying awake, the weakness and pain she displayed; all were just symptoms of the cancer growing a little way up from the base of her skull.

One look at Malab's helpless grief was enough to tell Inks that he knew exactly what the problem was, and was helpless to fix it. Even if the torchkeepers had the skill to perform surgery in such a dangerous, delicate area; Priscia was so frail and weak that the harm caused by cutting her open would probably kill her all on its own. The only thing the drugs they were feeding her could do was delay the inevitable.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Sickness effect - cancer - that requires major, high-Diff surgery to remove every part of the tumour, preferably without damaging the brain around it. Made more complicated by the fact that she literally doesn't have enough health levels to survive the surgery's autodamage.))  
> ST: ((Inks has probably seen a tumour like this once back in Nexus, and if so, that patient died - quite possibly in surgery.))  
> Inks: (Oh dear. That'd require me to dig into Wound-Mending Care, then Annointment of Miraculous Health, and lastly Ailment-Rectifying Method. That's 3+4+3 days of training, x2 if I cannot argue the Torchbearers as training aides)  
> ST: ((Indeed. But while this is way beyond what mortal doctors can cure because even the attempt would kill her, a Solar medic can be like "damn straight I got this".))  
> Inks: (Indeed)  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [5, 9, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Compassion, I assume?))  
> Inks: (yep, accepting it)  
> ST: ((hee))  
> 

Inks sighed and gave Priscia a soft smile. "I have an idea or two. Let me have a word with Maleb for a moment." She tugged the older doctor aside with a polite move until the patients were out of earshot.

"I would need the time to develop the techniques, but with that time, I could clear your ward. I have other obligations at the moment, but I'm committing to this, right here, right now." She kept the proclamation in low tones, but Maleb heard it clear as day. "If I am not negotiating with Xandia or sleeping, I will be here working on treatment programs. Will you and your torchbearers help me?"

"Of course!" His reply was instant. "We have a sacred duty to those in our care. These are beyond our skill; we will support you with whatever you need to help them." He looked hopeful. "These techniques... are they things you could teach?"

"Unfortunately no." She allowed her caste mark to shine over her brow. The artifact bindi caught the cast light and spread a curling pattern of sanctified runes across her forehead in the process.

He sighed morosely, shoulders falling. "Ah, that is a pity. Well, alas. I hope you can train up some of our brightest as you develop them, at least?"  
"I believe I can!"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, anything else you want to do here? Oh, yes, bighuge mcladyperson))  
> Inks: (yeah, assess what she is roll, based on the stunt/tool bonuses and aide from Maleb?)  
> ST: ((Okay, hmm. Int+Occult, Diff 6, and I must prompt you with the question of whether you're, uh, actually going to /ask/ Maleb what she is to see if he knows. :P))  
> Inks: (pffff, good catch)  
> With the testing equipment, Inks checked them out with no small amount of fascination, before idly asking Maleb if he knew what land or culture their large patient came from. "It's throwing off our treatment if we don't know."  
> Inks: (Asked!)  
> ST: ((Maleb is a +1 aide, you have a +1 tool bonus, roll at your leisure.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +4; Inks: [3, 3, 6, 9, 1, 1, 6, 9, 9, 3, 1, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

"... oh, of course," Maleb replied, blinking. "You're not a mountainer - she has giantblood; from the west. Her kinsfolk are more settled in the western domains; it hadn't occurred to me that you wouldn't have seen them before."

Inks... vaguely recalled that she'd heard people saying some of the Coxati claimed descent from giants. Apparently there was truth in the tales. Or then again perhaps not, because there was something odd about the merger of human and what was apparently giant, and if nothing else she couldn't imagine how that kind of mixture could happen by _biological_ descent.

Regardless of the source, the inhumanity the woman's nature was no god or elemental, nor any breed of chaos-thing, nor a mere mutation on the human template. Inks almost thought it might be demonic, but... no, it didn't react to her sun-essence the way that demonic ancestry would. It was a race apart from man, and if she were to guess it had dietary requirements for healing on this scale that weren't being met by what the woman was getting here; despite the quantities she was eating.

She couldn't tell from a short analysis what it might be that she was lacking, but at least she had a lead to investigate now in the tales of giants.  
"Do you speak her dialect, or is there a translator around?" Inks asked aloud, after writing down her findings.  
  


>   
>   
> ST: ((She saw him placating her grumbling earlier; so she knows he can talk to her.))  
> Inks: (Just checking)  
> 

"My thought right now is to spend some time discussing what she normally eats or how her culture lives. I need to know what she's eating since she started treatment here as well."

Maleb nodded thoughtfully. "I will. You think she's lacking something in her food? Or eating something that's preventing her from healing properly?"  
"That's the current theory. I need more data to confirm."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, that seems to tie us up on that score.))  
> ST: ((Does Inks want to do anything else before going along to see Xandia again?))  
> Inks: (Not really- just to confirm, am I training for 20 days, or 10 days?)  
> ST: ((You have the xp?))  
> Inks: (I do)  
> ST: ((That is to say, you're intending to drop it all on those Medicine Charms this session?))  
> Inks: (yes, I don't think Inks's compassion would let her wait)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. 10 days, then. You want to leave the big meeting with Xandia until after, or will Inks go see her between bouts of throwing herself at surgery practice?))  
> Inks: (Between bouts, I'm thinking it'd make the sale stronger)  
> Inks: (Actually before I forget- how many people could be treated with stomach bottle bugs?)  
> Inks: (Answer that when you can)  
> ST: ((Vine guy probably could. Giant lady probably couldn't. Priscia... a stomach bottle bug could attempt it, but getting rid of every bit of the tumour would be a high-Diff roll that the bug might not succeed at, and failure in such a delicate location could be very dangerous for her.))  
> Inks: (Sure, but what about the other patients in the hospital?)  
> Inks: (if for no other reason that to free up other people for specialist work or to give breaks)  
> ST: ((Others in the hospital, probably - but it might run into resistance on the basis of the cult's beliefs.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, I'll wait on that then, I have enough sorcerous XP for the moment)  
> Inks: (Anyway, ready for scenechange to Xandia when you are, thanks for answering)  
> 

It was a few days past her week of research before Inks met Xandia again; this time walking a circuit of the walls with several of her court in tow. It was, in fact, seemingly a chance meeting - the ruler happened to be passing the Torchkeeper's tower as Inks was leaving and beckoned her over to walk with her.

They waited a few moments to get clear of hearing range of any bystanders, before Xandia spoke. "So," she said. "You've been reading about my deeds, and you've seen the skills of my people. You're starting to think I might be able to back up my ambitions, and I think you're not entirely opposed to them. So here's _my_ offer, Inks. You're kindhearted; and everything I've heard of Gem calls it anything but. Abandon it. Come here. Work with me."

"There's little Gem could do to take you back, if you simply stayed here and didn't return," one of her companions said - her military advisor, if Inks remembered right. "Our lady would defend you if they tried. You've made an ally of the Saudari, whose lands they would need to trespass on to reach you."

"You could head the Torchkeepers," Xandia picked up seamlessly. "Or expand our trade, or add to our occult knowledge. I'll personally guarantee your safety from Pangasutri where your demonology is concerned, though I might set limitations on your use of it." She stopped and faced Inks directly. "It's a sincere offer. Consider it, please."  
  


>   
> ST: ((... let me just work out what she's rolling for that))  
> ST: ((Okay, so she's using Manipulation by having... kind of tailored Inks' entire stay thus far to lead up to this offer; so 4 + 3 + 3 First Empress Style + 2 stunt, with a Mag 2 court that gives her another +1, and she's backing it up with a WP spend. So...))  
> ST: !ex 13 +1; ST: [6, 4, 10, 2, 8, 6, 5, 6, 1, 5, 3, 3, 7] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... she could have done better on that one. Ah well.))  
> Inks: (Inks's parry MDV is 4, but we can assume I stunt and/or counter argue to boost it as well. I don't think Dodge MDV is the spiritually sound trait to defend here. Inks isn't 'lalalala ignoring you')  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> ST: ((Or you can just spend WP to boost your MDV by 1 and parry on sheer stubbornnness.))  
> ST: ((She is, incidentally, playing to Inks' compassion.))  
> 

Inks grinned, momentarily floored, but she rallied nonetheless in her distinctive manner. On the one hand, Pipera would be dropping her face into a waiting palm with alarming speed, on the other, Inks had to be herself. "I'm honored by your offer, truly- but Gem suits my purposes and goals, my ambitions."

She sashayed, panther-strut in full effect when neatly slotting her way through the insulating cloud of advisors and courtiers, to toss an art-covered arm around Xandia's shoulders, smiling broadly. "Like you I have an eye on the long game. Gem is mine, it just doesn't know it yet." The admission was as much a diplomatic concession as anything.

"I am glad that we have time to talk though- I thought about what you said last time we spoke, and of your own history of success. I would be happy to offer personal and public aide to your state and the Coxati in general. Consultant, neutral mediator, whatever you need within reason."

"More privately, I am happy to offer a certain amount of support for your ambitions, at my discretion." She smiled, charming and winsome as Xandia flustered under her close contact. "In the immediate, I had a proposal in mind for a Coxati intra-trade company, that in turn would help connect your goods to Gem. The details can be polished, but-" She quickly outlined the rest of the proposal

before finally disengaging and turning to face Xandia with a broad grin. "If and when it works, you will have a richer, more connected Coxati empire, and Gem will have a new and wealthy market for goods and services!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (This is a mix of Parry and counter-offer, Mastery of Small Manners + Presence Excellency + Stunner Style, so App 6, 18d +3 style and +2 stunt maybe?)  
> ST: ((Roll 3-dot stunt for MDV boosting first; just 1 sux on that means a successful parry.))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [4, 1, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Stunts generally just add straight on to DV calculation though, and on paper Sexy Stunner specialty would also dohte same)  
> ST: ((I don't think that Style is directly applicable to refusing an offer - it's inherently a aggressively persuasive one rather than a more balanced on themed around, for instance, keeping your cool and never getting swept up and convincing people through steady, proven logic.))  
> Inks: (fair argument, carry on then!)  
> ST: ((So unless Inks has a Principle that boosts her MDV against that argument she'll need to spend a WP to go "NOPE DOING IT MY WAY" - or channel and roll Conviction, but that also costs 1 WP.))  
> Inks: (So I'm still at PDV 4. I could argue that her 'empire' principle is better suited in Gem, as Coxati is even harder to get to than Gem)  
> Inks: (Also my stunt was leaning on my Conviction virtue)  
> ST: ((Yes, but she did mention that Inks could set up a trade network across the whole Coxati region freely and with her full support, if she moved.))  
> Inks: (True. Looks like I'm spending that WP  
> ST: ((Fair enough! Okay, you're at -1 from Magnitude - or rather she's at +1 MDV - which is negated by MoSM. You've got +3 App and a 2-dot stunt; her base MDV is 5. Go for it.))  
> Inks: !ex 23; Inks: [3, 5, 5, 1, 10, 8, 10, 5, 6, 2, 9, 9, 5, 8, 10, 9, 5, 9, 4, 8, 9, 7, 8] was rolled for 16 successes.  
> 

Xandia exchanges glances - and a few mutters - with her advisors as they continue their stroll along the line of the wall. She breaks off her discussion briefly when a trio of young hunter-apprentices come running over to ask for her blessing on a new bow, and turns to Inks as they depart.

"So you're suggesting that - with your mediation - I would sell to the Saudari who could then sell on to Gem, allowing me to build on that strengthened trade link to bring her further into the fold. And you would get her cooperation in this, as well as in talking clans around to the idea of a coalition?"

"In summary, yes." Inks let out a pleasant, husky laugh. 

Inks _saw_ the struggle it took for Xandia not to leap on the offer immediately. It took a sincere effort of will for her to hold back. "It's attractive; I won't lie about that," she said. "But you understand I can't say yes immediately? I need to talk it over and think it through. Give me a week and I'll have your answer." She smiled. "Or perhaps another counter-offer. Are you so sure you don't want to settle here? It's much more pleasant than Gem is."

"Oh Gem has many unpleasant things. Part of the fun is fixing them." Inks winked, bowing. "I should get back to the hospital. I have a number of challenges ahead of me."  
  


>   
> ST: Cool. Close there?  
> Inks: (End session you mean? I was hoping to tackle the surgeries, but it is late for you.)  
> ST: Yah.  
> Inks: end session then, xp?  
> ST: 4+1xp for that great counter-pitch, +1mxp.  
> Inks: why was it great?  
> ST: Ambition. You're pushing into the political scene in a way that's intentionally going to make waves, in full knowledge of it.  
> ST: Fun stuff that breeds Plot.  
> Inks: Ahh  
> Inks: Alright, so Inks can now with her medicine charms bring someone back from 'Mostly dead' to 'Nearly full health'  
> Inks: Wound Mending Care is basically replacing normal 'I need time to heal HLs' and is the closest thing to a convalescence fixer   
> Inks: so Priscia for example, let's say that I inflict 3 HLs on her (of her like, 4 or whatever), they'd take their whatever time to heal, something like 2 weeks per -2 HL  
> Inks: so let's say 5 weeks of bedrest to heal up.   
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [6, 1, 1, 8, 8, 2, 6, 3, 1, 2] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: Okay, assuming diff 1, Priscia heals 1 HL at end of day, and if she bedrests, she heals another 3 HLS  
> Inks: shit be crazy yo  
> 


	32. Session 32: The Doctor is In

>   
> ST: (okay  
> Inks (claps hands)  
> ST: (we didn't discuss this one ahead of time; so is there a specific focus you wanted? Or more accurately; what do you intend to focus on?)  
> Inks: (I had already roughed out the crunch of the surgery actions)  
> Inks: (so I was aiming to lead with those, and then continue convincing Xandia and trying to practice Principles in Action)  
> Inks: (Okay, so Priscia's surgery is going to be Difficulty 5 or higher, and take [Difficulty x3] hours before magic. I still need to perform actual surgery as well, so that will inflict [Difficulty] damage dice on the patient. Anointment of Miraculous Health will give her [Essence] -1 HLs. Wound-Mending Care would be part of a separate medicine action after surgery, which restores [Rolled successes] HLs at end of day, and an additional [Essence] HLs if they spent that time resting.)  
> ST: (Indeed)
> 
> Inks: (I don't think I have the time to do much about the Dam this session, but I had the thought of asking Xandia's court about it and if it uses the same stone as the local architecture, that is to say, time this _arc_ , I'm starting to feel the crunch re: time away from Gem. Not badly, but you did make me aware of it.)  
> ST: (okay, so MEDICINE-FU and some politics. I'm going to have RAW in place here, so you're working on five scenes of persuasion to install a lasting Illusion of "it benefits me to trade with Gem (in this manner)" into Little Miss high-Conviction Xandia, of which I'd say you've managed two or threeish.)  
> Inks: (Right, and as part of this tutorialization on YOUR part- part of the 'point' of that mechanic is that the opposition can spend off camera scenes eroding these in-progress principles or shoring up their eroded ones)  
> ST: (Yes)  
> Inks: (so part of the point of social combat is to basically keep generating New Scenes as often as possible and denying them the ability to ignore you  
> ST: (One of the things that your threshold successes on social rolls are doing is tentatively convincing her enough that she doesn't logic herself out of it again)  
> ST: (That is to say; doesn't make the attempt to erode)  
> Inks: (cool, so it's a momentum effect, almost- note that is something of an HR though. Like 'Every 3 successes counts a 1 day the target will not immediately discard a potential principle')  
> ST: (Hmm. Yes, or possibly "a legendary success of 5 threshold means they won't try to erode until you next see them")  
> Inks: (ye)  
> 

* * *

Bold claims and brilliant theories were all very well and good, but they made for high expectations. The hum had spread from the Torchkeepers into the general population of the city, and she felt the eyes on her as a constant presence now.

She needed to make some strong progress in proving her medical credentials if she was going to keep the respect and high regard of this cult, and the influence they held in Xandia's city. At least her talks with the lady herself had been going well thus far.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Has the mountain gal's diet been investigated over the 8 or so days training?)  
> ST: ((It has. She takes a number of spices and supplements in her usual diet that are grown more by her homeland - she's not exactly from a _foreign_ culture, but there are definitely cultural things native to her family that aren't common in Xandia's city.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha... Okay I got this, stunt incoming.)  
> 

Eight days of intense, almost ceaseless effort. Inks leaned hard on Pipera and Vahti both to keep her afloat and maintain her focus. The Flame Duck was particularly useful as a buffering influence on the Torchbearers, who happily employed the Elemental's intuitive grasp of fire Essence for their various treatments and ritual practices

Thanks to that, Inks found the time to assess the local markets, and scrounge up all the needs and staples of her mountain-culture patient. Under the care of the Torchkeepers, Inks was certain the woman would not get worse, and with a supply of her proper diet, she would heal on the mend. If that did not work, Inks was considering how to transport her home as-is.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, So I really don't need to TREAT her, with anything like surgery. So I'm going to attempt to solve this problem with mercantilism! I will use Frugal Merchant Method and Insightful Buyer Technique to get the supplements or local equivalents at cheap/nearby markets. IBT is the important one because it negates [Essence] external penalties on scarcity and such.)  
> Inks: (So what I'm hoping to see a straight Int+Bur roll at Difficulty, with external penalties)  
> ST: ((Huitzilin is one of the lords who's under-the-table jumped on board with Xandia already, and has strong trade links with her nation. So Inks can get them from the homeland at Res 1 with a turnaround time of about a week, or find them at one of the diaspora areas in Xandia's domain for Res 2 inside a couple of days, with a +1 external penalty to find a supplier.))  
> Inks: (I'll go with the faster option, Difficulty?)  
> ST: ((Diff 1 +1 external that you're ignoring))  
> !ex 12; [6, 6, 1, 6, 7, 7, 3, 6, 7, 2, 2, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

With Inks' intuitive knowledge of the markets, it's triviality itself to get the condiments and ingredients she's looking for from a shop that also sells a range of incense from bitter blueish-black to sweet-smelling violet, potted plants and a lot of art featuring giants.

With that sorted, her next patient required a bit more direct attention. She asked the Torchkeepers to prepare the man for surgery, watching their ritual practice of purification- again Vahti was asked to assist. She coaxed pure flame into carefully enchanted, jade-dusted bowls that in turn were used to 'wash' the doctor's hands. Inks herself was shown how, and she could recognize the magical potency of the act.

Treated with anesthetics, the man was carefully put under and purified tools of the finest quality were offered to Inks. Before making those first incisions, she reached out to touch the man's brow, his sternum, and the final resonant point on his diaphram. "You'll need it-" She offered.

What followed was hours of careful, painstaking surgery, where careful incisions pulled the rooted vines out of his flesh and vein with fierce, intent skill. When all but the most meager leavings remained, she brought up her anima to banish the rest!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Anointment of Health, surgery action of [Difficulty X], takes Diff x3 hours to perform, inflicting [Diff] dice of damage. Waiting for Difficulty. At end of Surgery, I will spend an extra hour/pay 5m to use Wholeness Restoring Meditation to blast out the crippling effect.)  
> Inks: (Correction, looked up the logs- Wholeness Restoring does compress the surgery action into an hour, but the Difficulty and damage dice remain unchanged)  
> ST: ((... where the hell did the rules for treating Crippling injuries go, dammit?))  
> Inks: (Page 152 of corebook)  
> ST: ((Urgh. I thought there was more than that.))  
> Inks: (It's two steps- diagnosis and actual surgery, and we discussed it a couple weeks ago that the solar keyword treaters compress the entire surgery action into 1 hour, which then can be compressed with ITM)  
> ST: ((Bah, fine. So this is Diff 4 surgery, with a +3 external penalty from how it's wound all around his leg bone and another +1 from the fact that it, uh, is alive and fighting you while you try to remove it. Diff 8 in total, doing 4 health levels of damage to the victim. You're giving him three [-0] health levels, so you're only doing 1lhl damage.))  
> Inks: (It's Dice, not levels, unless you see otherwise?)  
> Inks: (oh, right, there are two kinds of treatment actions!)  
> "This surgery also inflicts a number of unsoakable levels of lethal damage equal to the levels in the crippling wound, which run the usual risk of infection but heal normally."  
> Inks: (Crippling WOUNDS, like you actually got cut by a sword, and Surgery)  
> Inks: (you're looking at Wounds, which is 152, my bad. Go to 137.)  
> ST: ((Okay, see. That is the same action, and should really be the same both ways.))  
> ST: ((BAD WRITING, DEVS))  
> Inks: (I'm game for it! Just making sure! So levels or dice? Final answer)  
> ST: ((Anyway yeah, you're cutting him open, so I'm saying it's levels in both cases.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Assuming +2 stunt... What's my aide bonus looking like? I have competent nurses who are likely all med 3, so +1d... I'm going to assume that only 3 people can work on 1 patient at a time counting Inks though, so +2d)  
> Inks: (umm, tool bonus, let's say +1 because Quality)  
> ST: ((Indeed. And yes, I was going to give you a +2 for aides, heh.))  
> !ex 15 +5 -4; [2, 9, 6, 10, 2, 3, 8, 10, 1, 9, 5, 10, 9, 6, 1] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> 

It's a long and exhausting surgery, though made minimally more comfortable by an attentive Vahti standing by to mop Inks' brow with a cool damp cloth between removals.

The vine is alive, aggressive and _fights_ to cling to its host, stabbing at Inks' fingers and squirming away from the scalpels of her aides. It's not an intelligent creature, but its basic drives seem to have a vindictive malice to them - it tries everything; drawing near-fatal amounts of blood from its host (a tourniquet puts a quick stop to that), attempting to stab and infest the aides (the broken scalpel was entirely worth the satisfaction of nailing it to the table), even giving up most of its mass in excruciatingly-extracted runner after runner to preserve a few deeply wound roots coiled around vital, vulnerable arteries.

No mortal doctor would have been able to get the horrible thing out. But no mere mortal was trying, and despite all the efforts and imperatives designed into the malignant little piece of plant matter, Inks pulled it chunk by chunk from the flesh it was hosted in; dropping each successive piece into a red-metal bowl to be ritually burned.

By the end of it the poor man's leg was all but flayed and filleted on the table - but her genius extended as much to recovery as treatment, and a complex network of stitches and perfectly-aligned nerves and blood vessels put the limb back together like a jigsaw puzzle and held it there. It would take time to heal true, but it would be as good as it ever had been after a week or so of bed rest.

"You know, if you save one of the cuttings," Vahti whispered in her ear partway through, "a garden of this stuff would make for great security, don't you think?"  
  


>   
> "Might not be worth the trouble-" Inks mumbled. She focused back on her patient one last time, carefully instructing the doctors on how to see to his convalescence and in turn describing the simple but important guideline that he must rest for at least one day... but if he does, he will heal truly. (Wound-Mending Care Technique)||  
> !ex 12; [8, 6, 6, 5, 1, 6, 3, 2, 2, 8, 9, 5] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (Okay, 2 + 3 HLs if he rests til sundown)  
> ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
> 

This act of impossible surgery definitely seemed to have cemented her reputation as a genius, and she was dragged into a brief but formal ceremony where Maleb presented her with a golden flame-bindi identical to those worn by the master healers; adapted to hang as a necklace on a thin golden chain.

It took place in a sacred room surprisingly near the entrance of the tower, where the symbolic fire that Maleb tended as Keeper of the Torch burned and the history and beliefs of the cult were engraved onto every inch of the white stone walls in minute detail.

Leaving it with her new piece of jewelery around her neck, Inks was met with a rousing cheer from the apprentices and Torchkeepers who had gathered in the corridors; many of them wanting to see the little emblem for themselves or offer her minor gifts of congratulation.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Will she head back up to check on her other patients, or go collapse and sleep?))  
> Inks: (Collapse and sleep, was already going to included it in a stunt. Do you have a scene in mind?)  
> ST: ((Not a time-sensitive one, I assume she'll check on her giant-lady patient within a day or so to see if the diet is helping.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, then I'll just post my stunt as is)  
> 

Finally, after a day or so of rest, Inks was ready for Priscia. Again she was prepared for surgery, a careful preparation coaxing her to deep unconsciousness. Striding up and down the line of the best doctors and nurses the Torchkeepers had to offer, she recited the procedure to them, and they recited it back.

After all of this incredible effort, Xandia herself asked to observe, and Inks considered it for a moment. "This is not a glamorous process. Not something I want to make a theater of. I'll be happy to meet with you after I've finished her treatment."

Xandia proved remarkably stubborn about her request, though. In fact, it wasn't so much a request as it was a flat-out insistence; with no room for a refusal. It was a bit of a shock to find Maleb backing her up on it, too - from what Inks had gathered, the Torchkeepers enjoyed a considerable level of freedom from their ruler's demands, and from his comments about her, Maleb himself saw Xandia as more a potential patient than a respected ruler.

Nonetheless, on this he had some reason for agreeing that Xandia should be present for Priscia's surgery, leaving Inks outnumbered.

With her objections overruled, Inks prepared for the challenge. A vile tumor, malignant and life-threatening. She could almost see it through the skin and bone of Priscia's face- a product of her imagination, but a a motivating one. Reaching for the first scalpel, Inks exhaled. "Alright, here we go!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so I'm prepped to roll?)  
> Inks: (Int 5 Med 5, +2 style +1 perk die, +2 aides, +1 tool, +5 autosux. Difficulty and any external penalties?)  
> ST: ((Yup. So, as brain surgery this is Diff 7 even before complications; a feat of legendary skill that's beyond any mortals in the modern era. On top of that; the size and location of the tumour add an extra +2 external penalty to leave it at Diff 9. It'll do 7 levels of damage, which should by all rights kill Priscia dead - especially since she's got both of her -0s and one of her -1s full due to her frailty, leaving her with [-1][-2][-2][-4][Incap]. Even with Inks buffering her, this surgery will leave her hovering at Incap.))  
> Inks: (Wonderful.)  
> Inks: (Gonna channel my last conviction dot)  
> !ex 22 +5 -2; [5, 6, 9, 6, 4, 1, 3, 2, 6, 7, 9, 4, 8, 4, 2, 6, 7, 1, 5, 5, 6, 1] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Okay, so Diff 7 base, and I ate up 2 of the penalties already, so I got a threshold of 1! WHEW!)  
> ST: ((Where'd you eat the penalties?))  
> Inks: (When I wrote it as +5 -2)  
> ST: ((ahh. Nice.))  
> Inks: (So this is... Ailment Rectifying, right? Sickness?)  
> ST: ((Yes, Sickness effect requiring surgery to treat.))  
> Inks: (Right, so 5m on that and she'll have it blasted out of her. No more tumors. And then Wound-Mending Care so she gains..)  
> !ex 12 +5; [6, 8, 10, 7, 4, 3, 2, 1, 3, 10, 7, 1] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (12 Hls + Essence at end of day)  
> Inks: (11+3 HLs restored at end of day)  
> 

It was very, very delicate work. Inks had seen brains before, on one or two horrible occasions - but never living ones that weren't splattered over someone's floor by a hammer. This one was revealed by carefully cutting a bone flap into Priscia's skull - while she was still awake, albeit doped to the gills on painkillers - and delicately pulled it back to reveal the wrinkled tissue beneath.

Maleb himself assisted her in going in with the scalpels to isolate the fleshy cyst. Every cut required agonizing precision; every angled bit of pressure or teased-to-the-side bit of tissue needed forethought and consultation with Priscia to check she was still lucid. All the while, Xandia watched from the sidelines; helpless to contribute, white-knuckled and tense.

Finally, the tumour - a tiny thing, really, now that it was out of the body; no larger than a small grape - plopped onto a dish for burning. With more than a little relief, Inks channeled essence into the hole to purge it of any lingering illness and manoeuvred the bone flap back into place. The skin would knit together swiftly; the bone of the skull... slower. But it would have a chance to heal. 

Priscia; no longer kept awake by the drugs, was out like a light and barely breathing, so Inks gave her another general shot of sunlight - enough to supercharge her system, actually. She might even have overdone it a little. As she put the scalpel down, the entire room; aides and all, seemed to relax as if the tension had been a physical weight on their shoulders.

That done, Inks found the nearest basin to rinse her hands, and then found the nearest chair and flopped into it. "Whew."||

Xandia lowered herself into the seat next to her, looking almost as exhausted as Inks felt. "You really are a genius," she murmured, looking oddly triumphant about something. "Thank you. Sincerely."

"You're welcome." She let out a long, pleased sigh. "Ah... food. Sleep." She idly rubbed her stomach, offering up a wry grin. "Not sure what I want more."  
Inks:

Xandia grins back - an actual grin, rather than a court smile, and one that makes her look startlingly young. "Well, when you've finished, come to the tower. We can have another talk about this trade route you want to set up with the saudari. And be good to yourself. You've earned it these past few days."

"Sounds like a plan. If you'll excuse me..." With that she stood up and headed for her lodgings- exhausted, but flush with success.

* * *

Inks slept through most of the next day. And a fair amount of the morning. And then had a lie-in until the early afternoon, which wasn't actually intended but Vahti had ambushed her three steps out of the bedroom, intent on "rewarding" her for her efforts and also on being taught to play doctor, and what was Inks supposed to do? Say _no?_

So it wound up as late afternoon that she finally made her way over to Xandia's tower, where she found the lady of the city in the library.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception+Awareness, Diff 3))  
> !ex 7; [4, 10, 1, 10, 6, 7, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

It appeared that Inks wasn't the only one whose time had been well-spent. Xandia's makeup was flawless, but it couldn't quite hide the faint blush on her features, nor the way she was sitting a little forward from the chair so as not to make contact with her back. And she'd donned a high-collared, long-sleeved jacket in contrast to the soft sleeveless leathers she'd favoured when walking around the city, despite the heat outside. And there were bags under her eyes that her unusually-bright-and-floral facepaint couldn't quite conceal.

The picture of freshness thanks to her artifact bindi, Inks strode in with her iconic hip-rocking gait and took a seat opposite Xandia, smiling broadly. Her own gown was one of the more daring selections that Pipera palmed her face at, and Vahti celebrated. Cut to flatter, it showed off more of her tattoo than Xandia had ever seen yet. "Heya! How are you doing today?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Investigation, Diff 3, incidentally))  
> !ex 6 +3; [4, 8, 9, 7, 4, 3] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

She caught the title of the book Xandia wasn't-exactly-reading as she sat, and after a momentary niggle of deja-vu realized where she'd seen it before; on Priscia's bed when she'd first visited.

And that made a few more things she'd noticed rise from memory. Like the pile of probably-expensive books that had been on Priscia's table. The sadness and familiarity that Maleb had shown with her - an important man; the head of the Torchkeepers. The way Xandia had /insisted/ on being there for the surgery, and had encouraged her to go make nice with the cult in the first place.

The way that now, the better part of a day after Priscia should have been up and about again, Xandia was looking like... well, like Inks would if she didn't have her adamant Gem to deal with things like "mouth-shaped bruises on her neck and ruined makeup".

Hmm.

Inks was too politic to say, but she could not stop the knowing grin stretch across her face. "You wished to speak further on the trade route?"

"Yes," Xandia agreed, showing remarkable composure given she'd been caught out. "I'll agree that there is potential worth in the route you've proposed, but I'm not convinced Etiyadi will accept it - or rather, that she will accept _me_. She's proud and arrogant, and she will not wish to allow any authority over her rule. Which is a condition I will mandate for her inclusion into a coalition."

"Right, and I would act as mediator, reconciling your differences and securing the degree of autonomy she desires with your goal of coalition authority. I think... a possible tactic is convincing her to offload 'boring' responsibilities onto you, leaving her with the symbolic and practical powers she enjoys exercising." Inks shrugged then, smiling. "You may know her better than I though."

"The issue is that some of those powers aren't ones I want to leave in her hands," Xandia explained, closing the book and tucking it carefully into her satchel, which sat at the base of her chair. "Summary execution without regard for rank, for instance. And her aggressive attitude towards worship of anything but her divine father - which ties back into the first. Mediation can only do so much, and if she's entirely against giving up those powers, investing in the trade route will have been a waste of time."

Leaning forward, she interlaced her fingers. "Convince me you can bring her around to see reason."

"Hmm... I agree that summary execution is unacceptable- I saw the results of that before meeting with her, and I would not leave Coxati before bringing it up with her." She hummed, leaning back in her chair and folding one thigh over the other, thinking. "The worship of her father I... don't actually disagree with personally, but I assume that there are other local gods you want to organize cults for?"||

Xandia rolled her eyes and leant back. And then winced and sat forward again, clearing her throat to hide the embarrassment. "It's not the worship of her father I object to, it's the banishment or military action against other cults - to the point of border skirmishes against Lord Akna's sun-goddess preachers. She's no better inclined to the Jadefin, and her attitude towards other gods make it nearly impossible for Coxati groups who openly practice other faiths to live or move through her territory. At best, they get taxed heavily.

"Right. Okay, convincing, convincing..." Inks propped her chin in one hand and blew at her bangs, sputtering and deep in thought. "Well, the three angles are to give Etiyadi something she values more than her privileges as ruler; make those privileges cost her more than she's willing to pay; or convince her that she's wrong or can do things differently. Of those options, I can more comfortably do the first or third. Not the second." 

"So if I were to mediate for you, I'd need to be briefed on what concessions you're allowed to give her or incentives on offer, beyond anything I can personally contribute as a mercantile interest and pleasant company. I don't mind doing business in bed, but I'd rather not sell my body either."

Xandia frowned, probably at the thought of making concessions to Etiyadi. "There are trade benefits I can allow - and if she swore to their safety I'd be more willing to let Torchkeepers travel to her lands and spread their medical knowledge. But I've made that clear to her before, and it hasn't changed her mind. She's proud, and she values her authority as a personal entitlement - which she allows to influence her political decisions." 

There was definite criticism in her voice at this last part, and she looked like she'd just sucked on a lemon.

"Hmm... I think my... current thought is that I'd want to appeal to her entitlement, almost. To make her see that she has a duty that comes with the privilege. That sort of thinking requires that we make it clear to her that there are consequences to her behavior..."

"Does Etiyadi and her people do much direct trade or travel in your land? At the risk of 'tit for tat', you could mirror her policies against her, see how she feels about it. I wouldn't advise it as first-choice though."||

Xandia looked at Inks like she was crazy. "I'm not putting tit-for-tat policies in place that will affect her citizens and not her; it would destroy my reputation with my other allies. Not to mention it wouldn't work." She shook her head. "There's always trade, but not much in the way of direct, official routes from here to there - more a gradual flow of items across the border in the hands of individual traders and chains of buyers and sellers."

Inks nodded, raising her hands. "Just trying to figure out an approach." Falling silent, she started thinking again...  
  


>   
> Inks: (int+invest to devise an idea?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll it at Diff 4.))  
> !ex 11 +4; [3, 9, 5, 3, 10, 10, 7, 7, 1, 8, 7] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Okay, hmm. I... actually am blanking on ideas right now, so let's call that an extended roll as Inks goes off to think it over, and call the session thereish.))  
> Inks: (Sounds good)  
> 

"If you think of one, let me know," said Xandia, rising. "For now, I have other business to attend to."

Plucking her satchel off the floor, she left, leaving Inks alone among the shelves.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: Nice  
> Inks: so for clarity-I have to adjust one of my prior stunts for flow  
> ST: 4xp + 4xp for SUPER MEDICINAL PROWESS DISPLAYED + 2mxp  
> Inks: Niiice  
> ST: Yeah, just tweak that one a bit  
> Inks: I'll figure something out then  
> Inks: so did Inks accidentally heal Xandia's Waifu?  
> ST: That depends largely on what you mean by "accidentally"  
> Inks: well, 'inadvertently', I guess? treat without knowledge of  
> ST: Yes.  
> ST: Yes she did.  
> Inks: Fun  
> ST: Or to put it another way  
> ST: Xandia had a genius demigoddess come into her city with a trade deal she wanted, and managed to effectively trick said demigoddess into healing her fatally ill waifu _without_ giving her a chance to demand more favourable terms as payment for doing so.  
> Inks: Hahahaa  
> Inks: Okay then  
> ST: Now, yes, Inks probably wouldn't have held Priscia's life over Xandia's head like that  
> Inks: but it's just good statecraft  
> ST: but Xandia neatly circumvented the issue by not even letting her find out until she'd done it  
> ST: (I was totally prepared to give you rolls to notice something if you'd investigated why Maleb seemed so attached to her more than the other two special patients, or if she'd asked why Xandia was so determined to be there for the surgery.)  
> ST: :3  
> ST: best way to slip something past a super-smart person: distract them from looking at it too hard in the first place and don't give them a reason to  
> Inks: Heh  
> Inks: Well, session was fun! Glad we got to play this week  
> Inks: I hope we get to next week as well  
> ST: Indeed!  
> ST: ^_^  
> 


	33. Session 33: Coxati Negotations

Pipera's style had been changing a little over her time with Inks, and had changed further since their arrival in the Coxati territories. There were some of Etiyadi's fabrics among her wardrobe now, and the desert robes and tailored riding trousers had become sharper and more flattering; not showing any more skin, but better emphasizing her shoulders and waist.

It probably wasn't meant for Inks' benefit, but she appreciated it all the same when her aide showed up in a short jacket that faded from white at the top to sky blue at the bottom, and loose leggings of a deeper, more watery blue that topped heeled riding boots.  
She appreciated it enough, in fact, that it earned her an curt snap of Pipera's fingers in front of her face. "If you're quite finished? You wanted an update."

Inks blinked once, twice. "Sorry!" She gave her executive a guileless grin. Leaning back in her seat, she nodded. "Please do, thank you kindly."  
Pipera rolled her eyes at her boss, but shuffled her papers. "I've been keeping up to date with our people in Gem and following progress there," she explained. "It's harder to stay in contact when I have to do it by wind-message, but I considered it worth investing the time since we've been away for almost a season now."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Pipera has been making an extended Intelligence+Investigation roll while Inks has been arguing with Xandia and HEALING PEOPLE, for which she has 4+2+3 Sea-Fog Shredding Scholar Style+2 stunt+2 assistant dice from her contacts back in Gem, plus 5 Excellency dice for 18 total. Do roll for her.))  
> Inks: !ex 18; Inks: [7, 10, 8, 1, 4, 10, 2, 6, 1, 7, 6, 6, 1, 8, 1, 3, 5, 6] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

"Things are looking relatively good," she went on, shifting some of the medical clutter Inks had accumulated off the desk in her accommodation and laying out pages of notes for Inks' perusal. "As well as can be expected, anyway. The rumour mill has been effectively controlled; the Despot made several announcements and your friend Salib apparently has a friend who has a friend who's free with his opinions when he's drunk. So most of the city got regaled by some good press about how you're going to get them much better food prices."

"It's not all good news, of course - you have been away for a while. The public opinion of your demon-factories is sliding downwards again; business to the brothel is falling off and people are starting to avoid that edge of town. You have support from the miners, though; they're very appreciative of the tools you're supplying them with, and another couple of months will see them fully outfitted and free the production up for other uses."

"One of which might be Piercing Sun snapping it up for weapons, because he's been putting the Rangers through intensive drilling to get them back into the shape they were in at their heyday, and I've received reports that they've been making expeditions into the Desert east of the Scar. No word on what for."

"The Trasti boy is still using the manor to sleep in - Carsa has complained about him getting drunk in the baths, though apparently something happened that stopped him doing that overnight. And lastly; I can't confirm this, but there may be efforts underway to buy out some of your businesses. If it's happening as the result of a coordinated attack rather than just expected bleed from your absence, it's very slow and subtle - it's moving forward on a timescale of months, not weeks - but I suspect a pattern there."

Inks whistled, nodding once. "Okay... Hmm..." She paused for a moment, thinking. "The potential return on investment here can help shore up any losses back home. I should've arranged for experience with messenger magic before I left- something to work on." She grinned.

"I don't think my various officers would appreciate being visited by a messenger-Maji." The giant tiger next to the bed huffed at his name, giving Pipera a slow, respectful blink before dozing off again. "Nothing seems pressing, but this is an excellent appraisal."

"...I think I will send Gion a message though." Inks grinned. "A reminder that he is a guest."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I forget who was Salib? The diplomat? Based on what you've told me, I don't feel any pressing need to drop everything and rush back to Gem, but the longer I Dawdled the worse it's gonna get.)  
> ST: ((Yeah, the diplomat who knows about the Coxati and had a bit of a crush on Inks.))  
> ST: ((And yeah, that's about the right impression.))  
> Inks: (Cool. Okay!)  
> 

Pipera smirks. "Cruel and effective. I approve. A suggestion, though? Wait until early evening, for maximum impact. It'll take..." She closes her eyes briefly, calculating, "about three hours to get to him, at a guess."

"Thank you, I'll do that." Standing, Inks moved towards her luggage, slipping out of her current dress while she hummed. "How about Coxati and Xandia affairs?" She started rooting around for a new diplomacy gown- her cleansing gem let her skip on weather-appropriate gear in favor of more glamorous choices.

While she was consulting her wardrobe, Inks ran through the basics of Xandia and Etiyadi's argument. "I'm fine with offering my support to Coxati unification, behind the scenes at first. I can also set up a stronger relationship with Eityadi if that can get her to budge on one of the concessions Xandia wants."  
Religion, Luxuries and Influence, the latter two were the more manageable things to address.

Pipera ran a hand through her braids; close straight rows that hugged her skull and ended in a tight bun at the base of her neck. Inks had never actually seen her with it down. It was possible she'd been born with it braided. "It's been too long since I did this sort of thing," she admitted ruefully. "I've gotten soft and out of practice in traveling."

She shook off the moment of weakness. "Alright, so if you're supporting unification you want these talks to succeed. You're also probably aware that's not going to make the Despot happy, so I'll be pleased to listen to how you intend to hide it from him while we're en-route."

She sifted through the documents she'd brought to the well-used map. "From what I've heard, you still haven't convinced Xandia to buy into your proposal, but you've made enough of a case for her to talk to Etiyadi officially about setting up a trade route, with you as mediator. I think her court is arguing over where to set the meeting at the moment, but I don't know what the options are. Probably on the border and around the main road between the two capitals, but you'd have to ask her if you wanted to weigh in. Which I would advise."

"At least with Xandia, I feel that I can trust her discretion- I at least have earned a lot of good will what with Priscia. Eityadi might brag at having bed future-queen-of-Gem, so I'd be more careful with her. The rough plan is to focus on back-room support over direct statement of 'Rankar, I did this and this and oh hey I'm helping create a new hegemony next door!" She laughed, wry and sardonic. "I'm not that naive."  
  


>   
> Inks: (That river we talked about, the one with the shogunate dam, is it navigable, or are there lots of falls/rapids due to being mountain area.)  
> ST: ((Looootta waterfalls. Xandia's territory is at a higher elevation than Etiyadi's.))  
> Inks: (So any sort of water trade route would require locks)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

"If the Despot is a paranoid man - and let's face it, he is," Pipera added with a roll of her eyes, "he'll have spies among the Coxati. Be wary of that. You can probably play this off as just setting up the trade route, since not many others will be party to the talks, but make sure you keep deniability."

"I intend to." Inks finally selected a new dress- flattering like all the rest, and slipped into it. "Hmm... My go-to idea is figuring out a water route, as opposed to land, but that'd require a lot of work I don't have time to oversee. I'll see about proposing it later on. I've got enough credit to 'crash' the talks so to speak."

She turned, spreading her arms and letting Pipera take her all in. "Too much? Not enough?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Socialize to read her reaction; again with Socialize as the "social-perception/concealment" ability. MDV 7 reduced to 3 by a 4-dot Principle.))  
> Inks: (defaulting to MDV instead of manip+Soc /2 for the record)  
> Inks: !ex 8 +1; Inks: [4, 3, 10, 2, 8, 7, 2, 7] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Well, in this case the values are synonymous))  
> Inks: (Just checkin~ I still passed)  
> Inks: (Mechanically they are distinct in that the pokerface mechanic cares about Threshold, whereas rolls against MDV don't)  
> 

Pipera frowned, her eyes skipping over Inks' various expanses of bared, tattooed skin without really lingering anywhere. She was definitely uncomfortable when Inks bared this much skin - it wasn't the first time Inks had noticed that - and she didn't seem to like looking at her.

It wasn't lack of attraction, though. Not that Pipera was lusting after her every movement and ashamed of it - Inks knew _that_ face, and this wasn't it. No, it was something else. Something like...

Oh, she realized. Was it... was it that tattoo itself? Was that what was setting Pipera on edge? It would fit with what Inks had seen of her in the past, she thought, bringing past occurrences to mind. Though she'd never spoken up about it.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks detects a 4-dot Principle that's related to Inks showing off her full-body tattoo, though she just misses getting the phrasing/nature of the Principle.))  
> Inks: (Heh. My current theory is that Inks is advertising something she shouldn't with the body art...)  
> ST: ((:P))  
> ST: ((Anyway, if you want you can let that lie and go poke Xandia about where to set the negotiation meeting, or push forward with exploring your assistant~))  
> 

"I ever tell you how I got this done?" Inks gave Maji a fond, reassuring pat before gesturing for Pipera to follow her. Walking and talking would be the order of the moment. "It was pretty intense."

"I've picked up bits of the story," Pipera said guardedly, following suit and snapping her eyes back to Inks' face and the surroundings. Yeah, Inks thought. That mild discomfort followed by a retreat behind her walls. She's seen that pattern before; the strongest time being when she accidentally walked in on Pipera bathing.

"It was a few years ago- back in Nexus. I was still living with my family back then. Not that there was much love in that house. My sisters and I were basically chattel- though they were a lot more into the idea of being trophy wives and strategic marriages than I am." They left the diplomatic suite without much fanfare, though Vahti tackled Inks in an expansive hug before saying she found a gambling hall and was going to win big!

Inks just laughed and let her go, picking up her story with a grin. "Now, I'd been pushed out of Nexus's colleges- my mother put a word in their ear that no respectable daughter of hers was going to be educated. Nevermind that I was smarter than my both my parents put together. Nowhere near as cruel either."

"Enter Alakananda, Lesser Elemental Dragon of Water and my most treasured teacher. Also an incredible artist. One thing led to another and she taught me so much about art, medicine, artifice and more. And I was there, happy to be a canvas for one of her great works.

"Pissed my mother off like you wouldn't believe, when I came home a few days later covered in this." She waved a colorful arm, grinning darkly. "My family has a branch of 'blue collar' workers who use tattoos to mark shameful displays and such, so my parents abhorred body art, thinking it was unclean and unbecoming of their stature."

They were walking slowly, Inks all too aware of the lingering looks by young men and the more envious stares by the ladies. She winked and smiled at them all, openly pleased. "Long story short, she took an enchanted knife to me- my mother. Cut me from collarbone to hip." She traced the invisible line down her front, letting Pipera see it cleave neatly through her breast- a proper maiming injury. "A second later, I was Chosen. I got my skin stitched back together, scooped up everything I could carry and ran away from Nexus."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Charisma+Presence to sell the story to her, and a sekrit mystery Int+Lore roll with a +1 circumstance bonus.))  
> Inks: (k, cha 2 Pres 4 sexy stunner +3, +6 1st excellency, +1 WP for autosux. +2 stunt. 17d +1 auto)  
> Inks: !ex 17 +1; Inks: [9, 3, 7, 5, 10, 10, 10, 6, 7, 4, 6, 5, 8, 7, 6, 2, 2] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: !ex 21 "Int+Lore 5+5+1+10"; Inks: [9, 1, 8, 2, 7, 1, 6, 7, 2, 7, 9, 10, 8, 4, 9, 5, 4, 1, 3, 4, 10] was rolled for 12 successes.  
> 

It wasn't working, Inks realized with a worried twist. Oh, Pipera was sympathetic, she recognized that it was a sad story and she definitely seemed to be indignant on Inks' behalf about her education being denied. She'd even seemed genuinely impressed that Inks had been mentored by a genuine elemental dragon. But then she closed off and went all cold and jaded as Inks detailed how she'd gotten the tattoo. There was a sort of tired exasperation to her body language, a flicker of dismissal in her eyes. Even the account of Inks' near-death didn't win her over, despite the admittedly astounding feat of repairing the tattoo perfectly.

And funnily enough, that was what pushed Inks into solving the puzzle. Because she saw the exact moment that she lost Pipera, and it meant it wasn't the _contents_ of her tattoo, it was how she _got_ it. And with 'Nanda already on her mind, it brought up a memory.

She had never followed up on what she'd asked her mentor about Pipera's people. Honestly, with all of the mayhem of Hinna kidnapping her, she'd forgotten about it. But... oh, what was it the dragon had said about them? A nomadic trader people with a strange, heretical slant on the Immaculate Orthopraxy... yes, and they had beautiful tattoo artwork that was what 'Nanda had been with them to study.

Art that was a massive pain to get a look at, by 'Nanda's account, because they were intensely private about it; treating it as secret and sacred. No wonder Pipera had dashed away from the baths that time Inks had caught her.

That... that explained a lot, actually, if that was how Pipera had been raised to view body art. It was a gutpunch... but it was also a little flattering, because as far as Inks could see, they'd had this between them the whole time and she'd won Pipera over _anyway_. After all, her aide was here. And working for her. And giving her advice on how to get what she wanted. She'd warmed up a fair bit from those first few frosty months as well.

"Quite the story," Pipera said quietly, oblivious to the sudden sunburst of realization going off in Inks' head. "I'm assuming that's why you came south."

"Kinda? I mostly just wanted to get somewhere I could get rich and live well- my parents were criminals, with an appreciation for the finer things in life. I'm not so proud as to deny the fact that I like silk sheets, fine wines and expensive jewelry. To be fair, I didn't mind that they were criminals- so much as that they were being really stupid about it. Lots of short-term gain versus long-term investment."

"So you came to Gem, where people flock to make their fortune in a day and the gambling houses are the envy of the whole of the South?" Pipera riposted with a raised eyebrow, as they started along the last street towards Xandia's tower. It wasn't a subtle conversational redirection, but if she was teasing it meant she was coming back out of the icy shell. "A place well-known for its significant long-term planning over reckless thoughts of immediate profit, to be sure."

"I like a challenge!" Inks grinned, but conceded the point nonetheless. Looking at it a certain way, it was a rash move. "But I like to think that I'm an investor, I gamble on startups and companies, not card tables. Nobody's ever dared me to bet my clothes yet."

"Perhaps they're afraid of the bloodshed should they win," Pipera muttered, deliberately loud enough for Inks to catch. That was all she had time for before they were passing through the guards at the base of Xandia's tower and being escorted up in the lift.

* * *

Xandia and her aides were in the middle of what sounded like round eleven or twelve of an argument over where the site of the meeting should be; audible from the moment Inks and Pipera stepped out of the lift. Xandia wouldn't risk going to Etiyadi's capital, and Etiyadi was too proud to come to Xandia's, so it had to be somewhere on the border; that much was clear.

Inside the hunting-tropy-festooned war room; nine or ten advisors were gathered around a large, highly detailed map on which three stone towers statuettes stood as markers. Xandia was on her tree-like wooden throne, rubbing her temples and looking thoroughly fed up.

Inks whistled quietly. Deciding not to ask the obvious question, she lit her caste mark to generate a trickle of Essence and poured over the map without a word. Rivers, mountains, narrow passes all jumped out to her. Xandia's borders, and she traced Etiyadi's with a finger. This was for the diplomatic meeting, not the trade route just yet...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunting a... int+lore roll to pin down a good place for a meeting, or int+soc?)  
> ST: ((Int+Lore to look at the sites they're arguing over. Diff 3 analysis, +2 "assistant" bonus from hearing them yell their points in favour of each one at each other while considering.))  
> ST: ((or at least "heatedly state their arguments"))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [10, 4, 3, 4, 7, 6, 1, 2, 8, 7, 6, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

Starting with the three statuettes, Inks let her eyes roam over each in turn, weighing up the location. One was set over a largeish town on Xandia's side of the border. That seemed to be the majority position among her advisors, as it offered comfort, security and a home-field advantage of being able to tailor the environment of the meeting place. Both opposing arguments, however, were united in their insistence that Etiyadi was proud and touchy, and that inviting her to a town ruled by her rival would only result in her bringing a large entourage of her own to balance the scales; delaying the meeting and risking trouble from the two groups colliding.

The next one looked perfect at first - a smallish fortification that directly overlooked the main land route between the two domains; the one Inks had passed up in favour of the quicker path on her way here. It was technically a mile or so on Etiyadi's side, close enough to the border to be safe while still sating her pride, and... oh, that empty gap through the symbol meant it was a ruin. Yeah, one of the pro-town advisors was talking about how the moat had fallen in and much of the east side of the building had collapsed. It wouldn't be very secure against a possible attack, and bits of the structure might be unstable. 

The third option, then. And wasn't this interesting; Inks could guess what _this_ symbol meant - a demesne. Earth aspected, she was guessing from the geomancy... and yes, confirmed by Mr Beard-and-Sideburns. Sacred ground, too; Etiyadi might be fiercely in favour of her father's cult but even she would be wary of moving to violence in such a magical location. Of course, Inks couldn't see any shelter, uh... anywhere nearby. They'd have to pitch their own camps, which would sharply limit the sizes of each group.  
  


>   
> ST: ((The argument has reached stalemate about an hour ago and Xandia is clearly fed up, so Inks can sway the discussion whichever way she wants with a successful roll.))  
> 

Inks cleared her throat, smiling softly and doing he level best to ease the tensions with a kind glance. "I... have an idea. I would be more than pleased to have it polished up, but here's the draft." She considered the demense for the moment, nodding once.

"The concerns I noted were defensibility-" She noted the ruined fort. "Propriety-" Acknowledging the idea of balancing their retinues to save face or maintain parity. "And putting Saudari Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth at ease." A meeting in her territory would likely be best." 

"I am a sorcerer of some skill, and among my experience is the spell Raising the Earth's Bones. I can construct a suitable structure for our diplomatic meeting- though it'd be a very sparse one. We'd have to carry material to furnish it properly, but the actual complex I can create in a day's work." She tapped the Demesne again on the map. "I would lean towards this maybe, as an Earth Demense, my spell would likely not interfere or even strenghten it..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (IS the demense in Etiyadi's land or Xandia's?)  
> ST: ((Xandia's, but like the fort it's not by much - the exact line of the border is kind of fuzzy and ill-defined, and it's within the region of arguable-dispute.))  
> 

"It occurs also that I could 'donate' the fortification to Xandia, and make a mirroring one for Etiyadi as part of the diplomatic movement.... And they'd be good rest stops for any overland trade route." She paused, looking at everyone in turn. "Any thoughts?"

>   
> ST: ((This is basically a "you get to pick" choice, so which is Inks favouring? Meet at the demesne and restore/duplicate the fort as a bribe to sweeten the deal?))  
> Inks: (That is my goal, but I wanted to make sure the others were included because they might know the areas better, like the geomancer. Stunt, cha+pres?)  
> ST: ((Indeed, Diff 4, and a 3-die stunt for you for a good idea that I genuinely hadn't considered.))  
> Inks: (cha 2 Pres 4 Style +3, +6 excellency, +3 stunt... 18d)  
> Inks: !ex 18; Inks: [9, 2, 8, 8, 1, 2, 9, 4, 2, 1, 7, 5, 7, 6, 4, 10, 8, 6] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> 

It would be wrong to describe the look Xandia threw Inks as one of heartfelt gratitude, but there was certainly a strong current of relief in it. The various persons assembled mulled over Inks' pitch for a while, with a few more objections being raised and handled. Xandia's geomancer-shaman speaks up to raise concerns on disturbing the energy of the "Broken Egg" with a building, but Inks is quite to reassure him that she knows enough to avoid fouling the dragon lines with a disharmonious structure at a geomantically sensitive point.

After only a little more discussion; with Pipera stepping in to cool tempers and moderate back-and-forths, all appear to agree that Inks' suggestion is sound, and Xandia gives the voice of final approval; adding a private request for Pipera or Inks' aid in sending the message more quickly and easily than their usual means of communication with their neighbouring domains. 

"Via sorcery?" Inks clarified. "I'll have to use Maji, but I think Etiyadi knows him well enough. When would you like the message sent?" 

"Morning," Xandia decided after a moment's thought. "She'll likely be in court and most open to receiving such an offer... is there a way for you to receive her reply just as quickly?" 

"Hmm. If she has access to a sorcerer with the same spell, yes. Otherwise I'll have to work something out, but that's something of a trade secret."  
  


>   
> ST: ((You recall Pipera can do wind-messages, right?))  
> ST: ((That is to say, listening in on people too.))  
> Inks: (yes, but I didn't want to say that to Xandia)  
> Inks: (I was attempting to preserve Pipera's capabilities)  
> ST: ((Yeah, just checking OOC))  
> ST: ((Stunt message-sending as you will, then.))  
> 

* * *

When Xandia dismissed her, Inks and Pipera moved back to the diplomatic lodge, already neck deep in the required phrasings to mollify and interest Etiyadi. As enjoyable as Inks found merging interests, they agreed that offering that implicitly or explicitly was in bad diplomatic form. Instead they emphasized the symmetry of the arrangement and that the meeting itself would leave Etiyadi one fortress richer, at the very least. 

With the message drafted, Inks called Maji to her side. "Alright big guy-" She shaped the essence of the spell not quite dancing, but with a subconsciously sexy stance. "Go forth, speak to Saudari Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth with my voice. Xandia wishes to meet on diplomatic ground!" 

As Inks recited the message she wanted carried, Maji began to glow; the light radiating out from his fur and making him look larger. By its end he was flesh and bronze no longer; a tiger who stood as tall as a man even on all fours, written in red and black and golden-bronze. With a roar, he bounded eastward, vanishing through the wall and disappearing into an invisible beam of the Sun's light as he accelerated. 

"Well," Pipera said, dusting her hands. "That should take an hour or so to arrive. I'll find a place where my whirlwind-soul won't hurt anyone and start listening in fifty minutes or so. I doubt she'll refuse." 

"I'd hug you but I think you'd stab me for the attempt." Inks grinned back, nodding. "Keep me appraised, please. I'll get started on dinner. Do you want anything?" 

"Fish or waterfowl, if you can get it. Fresh greens if not." 

Inks just replied with a wink.  
  


>   
> Inks: (we can assume that between Insightful buyer and CNNT, Inks can get a meal done.)  
> ST: ((She can, yes. Honestly, I won't even ask you to roll for that, because you can basically trivially autosucceed.))  
> Inks: (I wasn't going to, but I like reminding myself the charms exist- and it helps sell the idea that yes, Inks can get duck or goose or whatever in the middle of a volcanic mountain range sheep/goat nation)  
> Inks: (So next up is Etiyadi's answer, and then segueing into the diplomatic meeting?)  
> 

* * *

It turned out to be slightly more than an hour for Maji to arrive; and Inks watched from a safe distance as Pipera - the subtle wave-foam frosting intensifying in her hair as cold breezes stirred the air around her - cocked her head and listened to the inaudible murmurings that they brought to her.

"Good timing," she said distantly, "she's in the middle of a court meeting, hearing a plea from someone... ah, and here's Maji." A longish pause. "She's surprised, but hiding it well. A few screams from her courtiers." Another, shorter pause. "I think... she sounds pleased, so... yes, she remembers you fondly. And... she's coming. Already snapping out orders." She came back to herself, dismissing the message-winds. "Good news for Xandia, it would seem. We have our meeting."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Now, you know what time it is~))  
> ST: ((Travel roll time!))  
> Inks: (hahaha, int+survival?)  
> ST: ((They're taking the main road, and since they're going halfway it'll be 3 intervals. Int+Survival for the first; Diff 2 - will Inks be taking charge of the group? Xandia is bringing along a few key advisors, a fair number of guards and a couple of trader-caravans with example goods.))  
> ST: ((Each interval is a week's travel at normal speed.))  
> ST: ((Well-maintained road that winds a lot so as to go around the worst geographical features.))  
> Inks: (Inks would likely lead unless there's a better navigator- but she likely would also get aide bonuses from fellow caravan masters/survivalists. Stuntan)  
> ST: ((yah, +2 aide dice))  
> 

Fortunately, the trip was shorter than the full leg back to Etiyadi's lands. Before they left, Inks put Ajjim and Vahti in charge of keeping the caravan and its personnel safe, provisioned and so on. Xandia of course assured Inks that her party would be well cared for as guests, but diligence was well received.

With a focused, lean and specialized group, it was easy to prepare and get on the road. Xandia and her court were experienced sorts, and by now they'd heard of how well Inks navigated the route to their land in the first place. Following a road was not difficult- 

But Inks took the time to do it well, keeping abreast of potential natural challenges or opportunities. Maji padded alongside, ducking off to hunt or pounce as needed. One notable time was when the giant tiger tackled Inks right off of Windroarer, not even touching the Simhata with his bulk. Inks's answering laugh echoed off the mountain peaks,and she quickly soothed her mount with kind words.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll it; 2-dot stunt))  
> Inks: (Okay, so does this scenario count as training for Survival dots Y/N, or no?)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [9, 3, 2, 6, 1, 8, 5, 6, 7, 7, 2, 7] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((What are you at atm?))  
> Inks: (Survival 3, I need 4)  
> ST: ((It counts, but you're w/o a tutor.))  
> Inks: (I was trying to ask if it counts as a tutor, I meant, so obviously No. My impression is that 'anything' can teach, in fine wuxia tradition, even situations. But no worries. SO on paper, Inks needs 6 weeks to learn Surv 4.)  
> Inks: (In any case, Threshold 3 on Diff 2)  
> ST: ((If it was rougher terrain it would, but it's too easy a route :P))  
> 

It's easy progress for the first leg; the well-maintained area where the road gets regular maintenance. Inks lets Pesala ride ahead of her - the little girl has been very well behaved for the trip thus far; exploring the different cultures and... well, getting into one or two fights, but Ajjim has been a lot more able to pull her off her victims here than back in Gem.

>   
> ST: ((Second roll, also Diff 2. It's a good road.))  
> Inks: (Okay, anything new/changed about the scene? The diff is the same obviously, but pauses for extended rolls are useful for updating the stakes.)  
> Inks: ('No', is perfectly reasonable, but I wanted to ask now)  
> ST: ((Pretty much the same - the first two legs of the road are well-tended to; the middle two are rougher.))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [1, 10, 1, 4, 7, 8, 10, 1, 10, 3, 4, 1] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> 

The second leg of the journey, after a day-long rest and refueling stop in a minor town, went even faster. Inks got to spend some time with Pipera and Xandia on the ride, trading pleasantries and conversation as they traveled, and she also got to overhear Pesala very seriously sharing the wisdom she'd picked up in her many days of being an experienced mountain traveler with Vahti.

>   
> ST: ((Okay, third leg is a Wits+Survival roll, and it's made at Diff 3. The road is rougher here, in worse repair, and the settlements aren't as common or as large.))  
> Inks: (Pesala adorbs.)  
> 

Ranging ahead with Windroarer and Maji, Inks made a wider circuit of the road ahead, checking out the potential hazards well before the diplomatic party encountered them. Diplomatic missions like this one were where 'accidents' just seemed to happen. She watched the mountain sides, ears perked for falling stone, quiet wildlife, and the stillness of the wind...

>   
> Inks: (Stunted)  
> ST: ((2 dots; roll))  
> Inks: !ex 9 Inks: [1, 9, 9, 1, 10, 7, 5, 2, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((Perception+Awareness, Diff 4))  
> Inks: (Moving objects or low light conditions?)  
> ST: ((spotting things wot are in the environment))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, cat style applys)  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [3, 4, 4, 9, 3, 4, 3, 3, 6, 3] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Oh dang ...do I have 3rd excellency inherently? or do I have to buy that?)  
> ST: ((You need to buy it. Hang on while I roll...))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [3, 10, 7, 5, 3, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [5, 5, 2, 7] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((aaand...  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [7, 4, 5, 2, 4, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((you're all _terrible_ at this))  
> ST: ((let me think for a minute))  
> Inks: (feel free to invoke my experience if you need)  
> ST: ((you and the ambush party are all morons, and both succeeded your avoid-notice rolls and failed your awareness ones))  
> ST: ((I am genuinely tempted to let you walk past each other))  
> ST: ((but I'm currently laughing too hard to type it up))  
> Inks: (Pff, in cases like this you can always set up another roll, but it is a valid event resolution)  
> ST: ((the ambush is so subtle no one noticed it  
>  \- neither ambushers nor ambushees))  
> Inks: (my mental image is the bandits passing the caravan by, and then a few moments later they stop and think 'wait, wasn't that our- SHIT GOGOGOGO!)  
> ST: ((I did! That was the extra rolls! Maji and Xandia's group missed them too!))  
> ST: ((Okay, I think I know how to play this out.))  
> ST: ((... as soon as I get a drink of water, because now my throat hurts))  
> 

Maybe it was the poor visibility of the switchback-road limiting how far ahead they could see. Maybe it was the good time they'd made, descending quicker than expected. Maybe it was just an odd turn of fate.

Whatever the reason, when they turn a hairpin bend and find six men in light armour laying down a wire trap of some sort across the road, Inks' party is as surprised as the soldiers seem to be.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Join Battle!))  
> ST: ((I honestly can't wait to see this in the postmortem))  
> Inks: (indeed. Are the bandits going to join?)  
> 

Rearing back atop Windroarer, Inks let out a shrill whistle, calling Maji to her side!  
Inks: !ex 8 "wits 2 Awa 2 Style +2 Stunt +2 even if it's limited. 8d total"; Inks: [4, 1, 7, 8, 6, 8, 3, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.

The soldiers - helmeted and in plain gear with no obvious marks of allegiance - scrambled backward into formation. They moved well - obviously trained - and one of them let out an undulating wail. A... thing, stirred and emerged from the bushes beside the trail; something like a badger the size of a horse, with a stony hide and a wide head that bore three prominent forward-facing horns.  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [3, 8, 4, 5, 2, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Okay, so.))  
> ST: ((The situation. Inks is currently leading the party and has just rounded a hairpin turn in a switchback with the first cart. Xandia and Pipera are up with her, along with two of the former's soldiers; Ajjim and Pesala are further back up the trail where the second cart is rounding the hairpin above them, with most of the rest of the soldiers bracketing it ahead and behind.))  
> ST: ((So in practice, for the first few rounds, it's Inks on Windroarer, Maji, Pipera, Xandia and a couple of guards, vs these six and their... thing. Inks can make a Wits+Occult roll at Diff 3 to guess at what their dot-dot-dot-thing is.))
> 
> Inks: (the allied soldiers, I gather by context. The enemy raiders are ahead of us on the curve, with their tricerabadger. Hmm. Are you deliberately simplifying the combat? Because so far only two people have rolled JB on camera.)  
> Inks: (I'm game for whatever, but this is running up against my internalized combat rules)
> 
> ST: ((Yeah, I think in this case we have enough people that, hmm. Actually, no, you have a point. Hang on and let me finish though.))  
> ST: ((The switchback path is a relatively gentle incline, and goes across the steep slope they're traversing. To their right is a thin line of bushes and trees that buts up against a steep wall (at the top of which is the next switchback up), on the other side is a sheer drop to the next switchback down. The path's about wide enough for six or seven people.))
> 
> Inks: (Fun! This is a lot more inventive than most combat setpieces already)
> 
> ST: ((Okay. Hmm. Yeah, I'm going to say we roll JB for "like groups". So that was Inks & Windroarer from you and the ambushers from me. In order, then...))
> 
> Inks: (I should point out that JB is optional, you only have to roll as many people who want to get stuck in or NEED to be stuck in)  
> Inks: (if you aren't in the reaction count, you can be targeted with a called shot, but aren't otherwise a valid target)
> 
> ST: ((Tricerabadger: JB 7, Xandia's guards: JB 4, Pipera: JB 4.))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [3, 9, 8, 8, 8, 5, 1] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [2, 2, 10, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [9, 3, 8, 7] was rolled for 3 successes.
> 
> Inks: (Is that everyone?)  
> ST: ((Maji I'm assuming is acting on your tick?))  
> Inks: (If you allow that, I had not assumed either way. It would go faster)  
> ST: ((Okay, so action order is [Tricerabadger], [Pipera, Inks & guards], [very surprised ambushers].))  
> ST: ((You wanna make that Wits+Occult roll?))
> 
> Inks: (Sure)  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [2, 4, 9, 1, 4] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Not having a good time yet, but we're on for First Actions!)  
> 

The _thing_ , whatever it is, lets out a hoarse roar and stampedes forward. Its bulky head swings from side to side, horns scything through the air, as it charges directly towards Inks and Maji!

>   
> Inks: (Alright! Ten steps of combat! Step 1: Declare attack and dice pool + any Charms)  
> ST: ((Tricerabadger is making a flurry attack on Inks and Maji and using a Charm that will trigger upon a successful hit. Dice pool of 11, I believe the flurry rules mean its attacks are 9 dice and 8 dice respectively.))
> 
> Inks: (Correct, Flurries subtract # of Actions + total # of actions. So a 2 action flurry starts at 9, ends at 8. Step 2, Inks will stunt her defense- Note that Inks is currently mounted, so on paper if you enforce this rule, Her melee score is equal to her Ride score of zero.)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((I am tempted to... hmm. On the other hand, Windroarer is trained. I might use the lower of your DV and his, but impose the Ride cap on melee attacks.))  
> Inks: (Up to you, I'm not worried either way)  
> ST: ((We'll do that, then.))
> 
> Inks: (Fortunately, Simhata have a control rating of 0 for Exalted, which means Inks doesn't need to take any special action beyond sitting on Windroarer. I'm still capped by Ride though. Fortuately, being Mounted, Inks has +1 DV.... so what is windroarer's dex+dodge+essence?)  
> ST: ((3+3+1))  
> Inks: (Okay, so DDV 5 before stunt. Writan!)  
> 

Windroarer moved like his namesake, bounding in a tight circle while Inks slid off the Simhata's side away from the rampaging, goring horns!

>   
> Inks: (Stunted dodge, throwing on Graceful Crane Stance; applies to Inks only atm)  
> Inks: (Stunt value adds direct to DDV)  
> ST: ((... it really shouldn't, since those are dice, not successes.))  
> ST: ((At minimum you should roll it))  
> ST: ((2 dice, either way))  
> Inks: (hmm, you might be right by RAW)  
> Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [8, 6] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Alright, final DV is now 6- we technically skipped Step 3, where the attacker rolls)  
> Inks: (So cerabadger can roll)  
> ST: !ex 9; ST: [9, 9, 10, 8, 9, 5, 2, 1, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.
> 
> ST: ((uh ohs))  
> Inks: (Oh nice. Cerabadger hits Inks by 1. We're now in Step 6, defender re-roll, which I can't do. Step 7, calculate raw damage. So str + weapon + 1d;)  
> Inks: (Inks's lethal soak is... 1, Bashing soak is 2.)  
> ST: ((Cerabadger rolls 7+2L+1=10L))  
> Inks: (Step 8 is post-soak damage and the roll itself, which uses !exm instead of !ex.)  
> Inks: (So 9 lethal damage dice, huh?)  
> [7, 1, 10, 10, 3, 9, 6, 9, 8] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((6 sux))
> 
> Inks: (Oh dang, six damage in one shot, which gets applied in step 10. Good thing I have TWILIGHT ANIMA. By raw I spend 5m to do it on a single action, and when I'm totemic, it goes on automagically. Not sure how that works with mote reactor)  
> ST: ((you're not totemic, so a good idea to pay 5m if you don't want to die.))  
> Inks: (In either case, I take only 3 damage levels, putting me in my last -1.)  
> ST: ((Charm effect now, I believe?))  
> Inks: (Yeah)
> 
> Inks: (so that resolves the first attack- and we do it all over again for the 2nd swing. You roll 8d, Inks has a DV of 4 (from onslaught), Hmm... So the major thing re: being mounted is that it crushes your dice cap too for charm enhancement. By RAW, I can't use any dodge excellency since my effective rating is 0. Otherwise you'd allow me to boost Windroarers pools with my Excellency).   
> ST: ((Unfortunately for you, it's a Charm that deals a Knockback effect of (attack successes) yards. Which, uh. Is 7 yards, taking you clean over the edge of the switchback. Inks can desperately roll Dex+Athletics to try and grab the cliff-edge, or she can try and tank the fall down to the next level of the switchback down.))  
> Inks: (Is this considered a balance check?)
> 
> ST: ((I... don't think so? It's not an unstable-footing thing, it's a "being hurled away" thing akin to Heaven Thunder Hammer.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha- does it knock Windroarer away too, or just Inks?)  
> ST: ((As resolved, I think it got Inks with its horn because Windroarer took no damage, so just Inks.))  
> ST: ((Which is probably for the best because horses can't grab onto cliff edges))  
> Inks: (Part of why I ask is that almost all forms of knockdown end in 'You are prone unless you pass a reflexive roll' and Graceful Crane means I autopass balance checks...)
> 
> ST: ((Knockdown and knockback are distinct; on pg 153 of RAW))  
> Inks: (Fair point then, stuntant)  
> 

Inks was made of sterner stuff than her build implied, stern enough that the ribbon of blood stretching from her midsection was a painful problem but not a life-threatening one. Not yet at least. She sailed through the air a deceptively short distance, stumbling gracefully despite the sudden impact. Just as she vanished over the cliff-face, she reached out with one foot, angling for the hardscrable, windblown branch of a cliffside scrub brush!

>   
> Inks: (rendered prone or not, I can still STAND on most things with GCS!)  
> ST: ((Dex+Ath, Diff 3, no external penalties due to GCS))  
> Inks: (Spending a wp and 2m on 2nd excellency, 3d base +2 stunt)  
> Inks: !ex 5 +2; Inks: [6, 1, 9, 3, 5] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Just barely made it!)  
> Inks: (Now, fortunately, the Cerabadger's 2nd attack falters, since Inks is no longer a valid target)  
> ST: ((... it was flurrying at Inks and Maji))  
> Inks: (Oh, I thought it was just Inks twice. Maji's turn!)  
> 

It was a very close thing. Skipping from brush to brush, Inks managed to slow herself enough that she could get a firm hold on the cliff edge just as she started to tip over. She was left hanging halfway off it - but better that than going over the sheer drop.

>   
> ST: ((Okay, so Maji...))  
> Inks: (Maji has a DDV of 4 before any stunting. and 1st dex. He'll spend 3m to boost his pool)  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [6, 7, 7, 8, 2, 4, 2, 7] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (That is a miss.)  
> 

Teetering on the cliff-edge, Inks was a little busy with the view of imminent, narrowly-avoided death. But she heard the next wild swing of the thing's horns, and the furious roar as Maji leapt away from them without being struck like his partner.

>   
> Inks: (And that should conclude tick 0. Now we move on to Tick 1, Inks, Maji, Pipera and Guards.)  
> ST: ((Okay, Inks gets to act now, in unison with Pipera and Xandia's two guards. You can stunt coordinating them if you wish - recall that the six ambushers are still scrambling to catch up. Inks has noticed they're armed with shortbows on their backs, which they're struggling to get off and ready.))
> 
> Inks: (So pretty much everything is going to happen all at once, and if you need to you can specific who gets priority in these same-tick clusters.)  
> Inks: (On paper, Inks needs to flurry to rise from prone- is she prone, and then take whatever required action to move into combat. How high up is the road from where Inks is? Coordination isn't something Inks can do properly right now. Pools too low)
> 
> ST: ((She is not prone, as she autosucceeded on the balance check from the knockdown that comes with knockback. She's... you know when you're moving forward and stop just on the edge of a curb and kind of teeter and windmill your arms so as not to fall off?))  
> ST: ((She's doing that, but on the edge of a fifty-foot drop.))
> 
> Inks: (Gotcha, so she never actually fell, per se, she's on the same level. )  
> Inks: (Okay, so Cerabadger is 7 yards away at least. How about the raiders?)
> 
> ST: ((Yes. And by that I mean OOC coordination - I'll allow you some leeway in picking the overall strategy of your side; who focuses on what.))  
> Inks: (Oh, gotcha, talking's free at least.)  
> ST: ((not quite 7 yards - you made the roll to stop yourself going clean over the edge))  
> Inks: (Okay cool)  
> ST: ((4ish, probably, and the raiders are three or four yards behind it))  
> Inks: (writan!)
> 
> ST: ((for reference, Inks has seen Pipera carry throwing darts and a rope dart))  
> ST: ((though she's never seen her actually use them))  
> Inks: (Okay, so this is definitely a flurry, but the specific set of actions is up in the air, stunt posting...)  
> 

Springing away from the cliff edge, Inks whirled smartly on a heel and charged! She trusted Maji to tussle with the tricerabadger. Her legs pumped, high and hard enough that the creature before her was looking more like a flight of stairs than a bloody-minded beast.

Her foot touched the thing's snout, whisper-light despite the things' thrashing. To Pipera and Xandia she shouted. "Go for the soldiers! Maji's got this! Keep me covered!"

Dashing along the tip of the tail, Inks reached into thin air with both hands and withdrew shining sunlight. Chronicle, heavy in her grip, raised high overhead. She hopped, more flung from the beast's thrashing tail, into the air and down, onto the halpless raiders!  
  


>   
> Inks: (So Inks has Moved, running ATOP the badger as a springboard, drawing Chronicle with Call the Blade (...or not, it's still step 2 by RAW, so I'd have to flurry a ready weapon action. Finally either a Jump, or the actual Attack Roll at the end if you don't think Inks needs to actually Jump for cinematic reasons.)  
> Inks: (Alright, so... dex 2, Melee 3, Acc +2, Stunt Whatever, +5d from 1st melee. +3d from style. -3d from total # of Actions on the single attack I'm making at the raiders. -1d from wound penalty)
> 
> ST:((I will allow you a free Jump, and let you make a single attack roll against three of the six ambushers - this is something I think grand daiklaves should just be able to do naturally on account of being _fucking huge_ , to compensate for the increased mins and limitations in where you can use it. Damage successes are applied to their summed health levels, so you can cut one in half and severely injure the next with the leftover successes, etc.))  
> Inks: (Appreciate that)
> 
> Inks: (Alright, so total # of actions is actually 2. STunt bonus?)  
> ST: ((3 dot stunt. Their DV is 3, and they're not able to stunt to increase it due to being in the middle of trying to get their shit together.))  
> Inks: (Extras can't stunt anyway)  
> ST: ((I'm aware.))
> 
> Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [2, 3, 3, 9, 9, 9, 9, 8, 7, 5, 2, 7, 10, 2, 3, 10, 1] was rolled for 11 successes.  
> ST: ((... ow.))  
> ST: ((Okay, uh.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so if they're Extras we can use the chunky salsa rule in corebook)  
> ST: ((They are not.))
> 
> ST: ((They've got 3L soak, so throw 8-3 threshold on top of what you've got and see if you can paste them anyway.))  
> Inks: (Okay, hit by 8, +3 str, +12 raw damage, -3 soak , total of... a lot. 20 damage dice)  
> Inks: !ex 20 "Donn't count 10s); Inks: [1, 1, 9, 6, 2, 2, 8, 9, 4, 2, 7, 10, 1, 7, 2, 2, 8, 2, 3, 9] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (Eight total damage levels)  
> 

The heavy edge of Chronicle cleaved the first man entirely in half, and went on to cut a terrible gouge through the chain shirt of the second, throwing him across the ground in a tumble similar to Inks' own.

>   
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [9, 5, 5, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> 

Alas, he was less agile and less fortunate. Screaming, he clawed at the ground but found no handholds as his tumble took him to, and just barely over, the edge of the sheer drop. His cries plummeted away before terminating in a distant impact.

>   
> Inks: (So 4 raiders left? I didn't do anything to the 3rd guy? Also feel free to VALOR ROLL)  
> ST: ((Pipera and the guards first. Pipera is flurrying a thrown dart at one of them and her rope dart at the other. 5-2+2 stunt+2 Excellency dice on the first; 7 dice. 7-3+2 stunt+3 Excellency dice on the second; 9 dice.))  
> ST: ((They're both still DV 3, so...))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST_: [4, 10, 6, 10, 3, 9, 1] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((4L damage + 2 threshold - 3 soak = 3L rolled.))  
> ST: !ex 3; ST_: [2, 6, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> 

A heavy dart whipped out of Pipera's hand as she rushed over to support Inks' offensive, catching one of the ambushers in the hip. Her rope dart uncoiled; the sharp metal gleaming on the end of the line as she built up momentum with two quick spins before hurling it forward in an arc.

>   
> ST: !ex 9; ST_: [5, 5, 5, 9, 10, 8, 2, 9, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((8L damage -3 soak +3 threshold= 8L rolled.))  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [1, 4, 2, 3, 5, 6, 4, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Pipera you suck))  
> 

This, too, pierced the light mail shirts the attackers were using, wounding another.

>   
> ST: ((and the two guards vs the last two ambushers I'm just going to roll-off their two attack pools and roll the difference in successes as damage, because they're both NPC pairs))  
> Inks: (sounds good)  
> ST: ((so that's 5 dice vs 6 in the ambushers' favour:))  
> ST: !ex 5; T: [4, 3, 10, 3, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [6, 7, 7, 6, 4, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((mortals, so the ambushers win))  
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((and now back to the fun bit. What's Maji doing?))  
> 

Xandia's guards did not fare so well. They rushed to engage the last pair of attackers - but met a strong defence. Bereft of supernal skill, they were bloodied and repelled as the attackers began to get their feet under them.

The cerabadger was bigger than him, but only just. After the deft evasion, the godblooded tiger stalked around the strange supernatural beast, massive paws leaving dry prints in the rough earthen road. Muscles coiled and bunched, while bronze plates sang in notes of fire and war. Maji was hunter, stalker, but he was also his tiger-princess's most noble and smartest companion. In a move fit for masters, the tiger charged forward, ramming his head under his opponent's jaw! From there it would be only a moment before he closed his teeth around the beast's throat.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so likely a flurry, Maji is going to try and 'throw' his oppoent to expose the throat and then pounce on the weakness. So a 2 action flurry at least. Throw and then Bite Attack)  
> ST: ((Okay, so attack and Charms))  
> ST: ((Trying to inflict Knockdown, then?))  
> Inks: (sounds about right)  
> Inks: (page 153, so a deliberate tackle forces both parties to test for knockdown. Dex/Sta + Ath/Resist, in Maji's case that's sta 8 ath 4 to stay upright.)  
> Inks: (Diff 2)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [10, 4, 10, 3, 8, 1, 10, 4, 3, 8, 2, 7] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (Yeah, I think MAji's going to sta upright. How about our badger? Ah, no, hold up, I misread- I gotta get past DV first, so apologies.)  
> ST: ((Fair. Roll attack.))  
> Inks: (Maji attacks, dex 2, MA 3, Acc +1, Stunt ?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [5, 9, 7, 5, 1, 7, 2, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((DV 5, unfortunately. Maji can still try for a bite attack at a less vulnerable area.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [5, 1, 4, 7, 10, 1, 4, 8, 1] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (even with onslaught,that's a miss)  
> 

Despite his efforts, the sheer bulk of the creature was too much for Maji to overturn, and its still-scything horns and pounding legs prevented him from getting close enough to latch his teeth onto something vulnerable. Its charge had taken it past its foes, and that same bulk was making it hard for the creature to turn around - but its swinging horns were coming perilously close to the cart.

>   
> ST: ((Okay, shifts over to the ambusher's tick, and they can finally make their Valor roll.))  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [4, 6, 4, 9] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Just about scraped it.))  
> Inks: (alright! Now 4 raiders are left, Inks is right in the middle of them with her fuckoff huge weapon.)  
> 

The men a little way down the trail from him were rallying. They were nervous and in disarray; surprised as they'd been - but they didn't break, and they didn't rout. The four of them still alive backed away down the trail, trying to get away from Inks, moving in well-honed unison. The two injured men drew square-tipped chopping swords, while the uninjured pair readied their bows and nocked arrows.

>   
> ST: ((All four are trying to get some distance with Move actions. The injured pair are taking Ready Weapon actions with their swords and settling into Guard stances, while the uninjured ones are flurrying a Ready Weapon action with a ranged attack. Both are targeting Inks.))  
> Inks: (Cool, stunt my defense now or you write the attacks?)  
> ST: ((Ready Weapon is -1 DV, so their attacks are at 7+2 equipment bonus-2 flurry penalty.))  
> ST: ((Reflective Per+Awa roll, Diff 3, -1 external penalty from the heat of combat))  
> Inks: !ex 5 -1; Inks: [9, 2, 8, 1, 6] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
> 

The bowmen nocked and drew quickly and efficiently, without hesitation, and both aimed for Inks without a word of discussion between them. Was that because she was the closest, or the one wielding the giant sword - or the intended target of this ambush? No matter, she thought. It was the same result either way as they loosed their arrows.

>   
> Taking a deft, short move herself, Inks swung Chronicle around in a warding gesture, the width of the blade casting a deep shadow across her body as it moved between her and the firing line.   
> Inks: (Parrying, Dex 2, Melee 3, Def +1, Style +3, Perk +1 DV, which if I remember correctly adds w/o rolling; Defense stunt?)  
> Inks: (hm, likely a 1, I should've done something cool like scraped up a cloud of dirt in the stroke)  
> ST: ((That would have been cool. Remember it for next time, but a 1 for now.))  
> Inks: (okay so you roll first in step 3, and I roll my stunt bonus in Step 5. My acutal PDV is 5 against both attacks, as they're independent)  
> Inks: (Ah, correction, 4- forgot wound penalty)  
> ST: ((Cool. So.))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [3, 8, 10, 6, 8, 8, 2] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [3, 10, 4, 2, 10, 1, 7] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 1 Inks: [2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 1; Inks: [2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Okay, both hit by 1  
> ST: ((... so they both succeed with 1 success.))
> 
> Inks: (Bows or crossbows? former adds str, latter does not)  
> ST: ((Shortbows.))  
> ST: ((Inks is 1L soak, yes?))  
> Inks: (correct)  
> ST: ((7L+1 threshold-1 soak=7L rolled for both of them.))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [4, 8, 2, 4, 9, 3, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: !ex 7;ST: [8, 3, 5, 3, 7, 6, 2] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((I assume you're Twilighting the damage down again?))  
> Inks: (Alright, logically I do, yes, so I take effectively no damage. I've spent about 23m this combat)  
> Inks: (can I kick up to totemic reflexively?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (lemme stunt the arrows then, along with that~)  
> 

Despite her best efforts, the archers were just a teensy bit better than her, more on the draw, just luckier. But Inks was Chosen, and her soul would not let her body falter so easily. The arrows slipped past Chroncile's edge, and would've pierced her flesh if not for the sudden sunlight conflagaration that blossomed around her. The shadow cast by her sword inverted, and the air was filled with geometric traceries and the  
fiery hues of the setting sun. "Gonna have to work harder than that, boys!"

>   
> ST: ((Okay, I think that's sufficient for another Valor check at -1 internal penalty for them))  
> ST: !ex 3; ST_: [1, 9, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: !ex 2; ST_: [5, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((aaaand they still stick it out. Hardcore.))  
> Inks: (Nice. So the sword guys are still there too)  
> 

The quartet shrank away from the sudden blinding light - and the crackling whip of freezing wind and snow-laced lightning as Pipera lit up in kind behind her - but still refused to flee.

>   
> Inks: (Okay! So I believe we've resolved all of the actions on the first pass- the raiders shot Inks with arrows, and the two guys with swords are guarding for X ticks. They can abort their guard actions whenever they want)  
> ST: ((Indeed. So, we wrap around to tricerabadger again, I believe))  
> Inks: (Depending on the Cerabadger's Speed, he'll act at Tick 5 or 6. Inks, Pipera, Xandia and Maji are all on Tick 6 as well. Then the raiders and guards at Tick 7?)  
> Inks: (at least, the bowman raiders are at tick 7. The guarding sworddudes can take any action they want on ticks 3 through 5.)  
> ST: ((Huh. I was wrong. Tricerabadger acted on Tick 1, and will act again on Tick 7. However...))  
> Inks: (Tick 0, he was first)  
> ST: ((Ah, he's on Tick 6 too then - speed 6 action.))  
> 

Inks heard a bellow from behind her. The horned thing was trying to turn its bulk around for another charge, but the same bulk that had protected it from Maji's effort was making it slow going. Unfortunately, its swinging horns were coming far too close to the lead cart, which Xandia was scrambling away from - and Inks knew from first-hand experience that a blow from those horns could send things flying with terrible ease.

>   
> Inks: (Xandia/Her Cart is being attacked?)  
> ST: ((It's trying to turn around and putting the cart at risk. Contested Strength+Athletics roll to keep it safely away if you want to avoid the risk of half your stuff going off the edge of a cliff. Multiple people can pool successes against the tricerabadgers to push it away.))  
> ST: ((Unlike the charge; this isn't an intentional, deliberate attack - the cart is just unlucky enough to be in range of its horns as it's bellowing and turning around.))  
> 

Inks whistled sharply, still wreathed in radiant sunfire. "Maji!" The tiger understood intuitively, ignoring the beast with a dour huff before lunging forward to grab the cart by the rigging and reins. His great paws dug into the ground, and petals of cracked stone bloomed beneath him.

>   
> Inks: (Inks is directing Maji to use TIGERPOWER on the cart, because he is Strongest Bestest Kitteh. Str 8 Ath 3, +3 strength excellency, +2 stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yup; roll it.))  
> Inks: (...can Maji spend WP?)  
> ST: ((... I'm inclined not to give him yet another trackable.))  
> Inks: (Point, but in practical terms I'd never use it enough to matter, your call though)  
> Inks: !ex 16; Inks: [5, 8, 5, 10, 5, 1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 5, 5, 6, 8, 6, 7] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> ST: ((Tricerabadger has 7+2=9))  
> ST: !ex 9; ST: [8, 4, 7, 4, 1, 1, 6, 7, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (Alright, so that was Maji's misc action, speed 5. He comes back on Tick 11. Has the Cerabadger made a concrete action?)  
> Inks: (better to say, non-reflexive action like Dash/Jump/Attack/etc)  
> 

Naturally superior as he was; it was easy for Maji to haul the cart to safer ground; out of reach of his stony opponent as it turned. One of the swordsmen made the same undulating call that had stirred it in the first place, and it replied with a bellow.

>   
> ST: ((Wits+Occult, Diff 2))  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [9, 9, 7, 8, 5] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

There was Old Realm in that bellow. Inks could hear it. It was crude and distorted; only a syllable or two of general affirmation distorted into an animalistic sound - but it was Old Realm. An elemental, Inks tentatively guessed. Old Realm was their native language; even the bestial ones that hadn't awoken like Vahti. They understood it, and it was part of their primitive communication.

With another roar - and now that she was listening for it, Inks could hear the slurred syllables of a challenge-boast - the elemental charged again, aiming this time for Maji rather than either of the frightening bright lights.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Another charge attack at Maji. 5+4=9. Maji's defence?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... IS there anything behind Maji for the charge to hit?)  
> ST: ((... you know what, I'mma let you decide. Roll 1 die.))  
> Inks: !ex 1; Inks: [8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Lol. Maji's backstop is the sheer drop.))  
> Inks: (I was going to stunt that!)  
> 

The great godblooded tiger huffed, letting go of the rigging. He almost strolled, blithely ignoring the onrushing horns and elemental might bearing down on him- he watched the beast turn, carving a rough curve across the road. The combatants watched as the tiger seemed to play chicken with the tricerabadger... and then Maji was gone.

>   
> ST: ((Roll 3 dice for extra DV))  
> Inks: (Loom stride! Reflexive Diff 1 Wits+Conviction roll to appear anywhere within Ess+ Conviction yards.)  
> ST: ((... or that. Roll 'em anyway.))  
> Inks: (Ah, dang, I misread. The charm must be used on Acting Tick. my shorthand did not specify. I will just rule it as a dodge)  
> ST: ((You deserve to get to roll a 3-die stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [3, 6, 6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: !ex 9; ST: [5, 5, 6, 5, 3, 6, 8, 3, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (Doh)  
> ST: ((And it misses anyway.))  
> Inks: (DDV of 4 etiher way, so Maji wins!)  
> 

A ripple of essence took Maji cleanly out of the way, too quick and fast for the elemental to react. And as the tiger had seen, once it was charging, it couldn't stop. A bellow of panic-fear-confusion split the air as the pounding legs of the great thing took it off the edge of the switchback, just as it had almost done to Inks, and it plummeted like a stone.

>   
> ST: ((... hang on a mo))  
> ST: !ex 13; ST: [5, 6, 8, 10, 7, 4, 8, 8, 4, 5, 1, 3, 1] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((5 levels. Huh.))  
> Inks: (that's significant)  
> 

Inks dimly heard a colossal impact far below, though the pained roar indicated that the thing had probably survived the drop. She doubted it had done so unhurt, though. She'd likely not have to worry about it for at least a few minutes.

>   
> ST: ((Her move.))  
> Inks: (And that's stil a 50 yard+ drop, by raw, so unless the badger has climbing tech, it's going to take a lot of time to get moving again)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Continue.))  
> 

Turning to face the swordsmen, Inks pressed a hand to the bloody gash in her side and huffed. The wound held itself shut before their eyes, and she turned a harder glare their way. "I'm not feeling particularly merciful right now- but I'd be happy to let you all quit while you're ahead."  
"So why don't you-" In a sudden move, Inks reached out with Chronicle to flick the half-assembled wire trap away, towards the two swordsmen in a improvised bola. "Siddown, shut up and drop your weapons!"

>   
> Inks: (Thought is either a called shot or an improvised weapon attack using the trap rigging. In former case, -x external penalty. In the latter case, standard melee attack at -3 accuracy dice)  
> Inks: (Also a reflexive roll to staunch the bloody wound)  
> ST: ((You're using it as a bola, so it's a Thrown clinch attack, Accuracy -3, vs DV 3. Roll it.))  
> ST: ((2-die stunt)  
> Inks: (Thrown ability? Hooboy. No dice there, I'll channel... compassion, since I'm not actually hurting them, for +3 dice)  
> Inks: !ex 4; Inks: [6, 6, 4, 6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Cold miss)  
> Inks: !ex 3 "sta+res"; Inks: [2, 3, 1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Also Cha+Pres))  
> Inks: (Still bloody)  
> Inks: !ex 12 "+6 excellency"; Inks: [4, 4, 9, 6, 1, 3, 2, 10, 1, 5, 3, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

Her lack of practice with the clumsy improvised weapon made it go wide; the swordsmen simply moving back a little to let the trailing end avoid them. Her words met with a similar lack of success, drawing only hateful glares.

"Demon!" one of the closer pair hissed. His friend was looking back at the archers, making several quick handsigns, and with a nod they ran as the swordsmen advanced on Inks.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so the archer pair are Dashing away, while the swordsmen are staying behind for a coordinated attack on Inks; hampered by their injuries.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so the coordinators have to actually do the roll right?)  
> ST: ((Yes, remind me where those rules are?))  
> Inks: (Page 144 corebook)  
> ST: ((Charisma+War, Diff 1. 2+3-1 wound penalty=4.))  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [4, 4, 9, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (w/o magic it's a 2 action process though, as it only will come up on the coordinator's NEXT action)  
> ST: ((Fair enough.))  
> 

Inks was momentarily alone. Maji's victory over the elemental had left him free to aid her, but he was a few yards back, and Pipera had settled in front of Xandia and the cart; her anima presenting a cold, crackling wall to anything trying to approach them. For the moment, the only ally she had was Chronicle; its mass outsizing both of her attackers' blades by a ludicrous margin.

>   
> ST: ((Since tricerabadger is licking its wounds at the bottom of a cliff, that means it's back to Team Inks.))  
> Inks: (Not the archers? Dashing is speed 3, so they're on tick 9, before Inks's Tick 11?)  
> Inks: (They could have been aiming or guarding, of course, for 1-3 ticks after the dash)  
> ST: ((They're just going to keep dashing away - their aim is to get away from the combat and presumably either send word back to whoever sent them, or hide and wait for another opportunity to set up another sniping trap.))  
> Inks: (Ahh, they're trying to disengage!)  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay, thank you for explaining)  
> ST: ((A tactical disengagement rather than a Valor fail, yes.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so if Maji did use Loom Stride- has his DV refreshed? I think so... How far away is he in yards from the swordsmen?)  
> ST: ((He's a yard or two behind Inks - within a Move distance to assist her on her action, and... yes, I think his DV has refreshed by Tick 11.))  
> Inks: (Muwhahahahaha)  
> 

"Fine, hard way it is!" Inks let out a low growl, bounding forward on long legs and eating up the short distance between her and the pair of raiders. Hefting Chroicle, she swept out a sideways cut that would plow through the man on her right and into his partner-

And Maji behind her _roared_ , shaking the mountain walls before vanishing once more.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so Maji is loom-striding again, I need to treat it like a ranged attack at Diff 1, no DV. So penalties for range/visibility matter, but this is a bright day with no real problems I think)  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [7, 4, 3, 6, 1, 6] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Okay he makes it- and this technically counts by the text of the charm as a reflexive Establish Surprise roll, so the swordsmen both get to reflexively roll wits+Awa against 1)  
> ST: !ex 5; ST: [4, 4, 10, 3, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

Appearing behind the raiders, the massive tiger loomed over them both, even if they whirled to face his appearance in time, it helped them not at all, caught in a pincer between chronicle and bronze claw. Maji swept out with one dinnerplate paw, crushing armor with the blow, and Inks matched with her own!

>   
> Inks: (Okay, Uncoordinated attack, Inks is swinging into the two dudes right to left, if I can hit both of em with GDK, Maji is just hitting the guy on Inks's left from behind. On paper, the left hand guy is at -2 DV due to 'attack from behind', if you assume he can't turn fast enough to defend. Otherwise full DV - action penalties - wound penalties)  
> ST: ((Okay, Inks can make a greatsword attack on both of them, and Maji can make his too. They're still at DV 3 despite their wound penalty, since they were rounding down from 7.))  
> Inks: (Stunts for Inks and Maji?)  
> ST: ((2 dots each.))  
> Inks: (wound penalties always subtract from post-calculation, not pool)  
> Inks: (It's part of why deathspiral is awful)  
> ST: ((I consider that to be rather silly, because it means you're suffering -1 die on all your pools and -1 success on your calculated pools.))  
> ST: ((It's inconsistent and makes no sense.))  
> Inks: ((Just so you know, cause I don't always know what you're thinking atm either~)  
> ST: ((It's the same reason I feel DV stunts should be rolled and add the successes to your DV))  
> Inks: (Inks attack is dex 2 melee 3 style 3 stunt 2, +5 excellency, 1m profit from anima. -1d from wound penalty, +3 acc... 14d)  
> ST: ((Anyway, go ahead and roll ze murderdice))
> 
> Inks: !ex 14 "Inks Attack"; Inks: [9, 4, 3, 5, 9, 8, 6, 2, 10, 10, 2, 3, 10, 6] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (6 + 15; note that GDKs are piercing, so halve lethal soak)  
> ST: ((Blowing them away. 3L soak, so +6 threshold -3 armour.))  
> ST: ((Fair enough. +5 total, then))  
> Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [5, 1, 6, 10, 10, 6, 1, 6, 9, 3, 10, 5, 10, 4, 2, 10, 4, 1, 7, 6] was rolled for 12 successes.  
> ST: ((... aaaand that kills both of them without Maji even getting to roll, so stunt as you wish.))  
> Inks: (7 HLs in one go, right to incap)  
> Inks: (Incap is actually the 7th HL! They're technically not dead, just bleeding out into dying immediately!)  
> ST: ((For a blow from a normal sword, I would be willing to say that yes, they are bleeding out.))  
> ST: ((When you are making an attack on two people in a row with a sword larger than you are and it hits both of them, it does so by going clean through the first one.))  
> 

Inks's strike all but swats them into Maji's waiting claws, crushing the two swordsmen in a single titanic blow that shattered their armor, their bones, and more. It was an awful, visceral impact. At that point Inks sagged, swinging Chronicle down to boost herself up. "Still got those two guys ahead! Pipera, can you?"

"I'm not a fighter!" Pipera called from her position guarding the cart. "If you want them caught, send Maji!" 

Inks gave her familiar a look, and the face he made back at her told her volumes. Do not doubt the tiger-prince. "Come back at sunset." She ordered.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, Maji is being deployed to run them down, but they're rapidly leaving the combat area, they'll have had 4 or so dash actions since then. Is combat ending or are we still in tick time?)  
> Inks: (Dash on tick 6, 9, 12 and 15 now. Inks and co are... acting on tick 16.)  
> ST: ((Combat is ending. Maji can make an opposed Wits+Survival roll for them to get away or him to catch up - they get a +1 bonus from a decent headstart. Is Inks sending him to kill them or drag them back??))  
> Inks: (Drag at least one of them back)  
> Inks: (he can do what he likes to the other)  
> ST: !ex 7 +1; ST: [9, 1, 3, 4, 9, 9, 1] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Maji's roll?))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [10, 8, 3, 9, 1, 6, 9, 5, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (So ist his a proper tracking contest as per the rules?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, okay, might as well. Rules for that?))  
> Inks: (page 140)  
> Inks: (Per+surv vs Wits+Surv, divided into 3 intervals. Whoever gets 3+ sux over the other wins the contest)  
> ST: ((Cool. Was that his Per+Surv?))  
> Inks: (6, but no excellency)  
> ST: ((He's two ahead, then. Second roll:))  
> ST: !ex 7 +1; ST: [4, 8, 7, 6, 1, 4, 2] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (He has wolf's pace mutation though, and Night vision, so that can be bonus dice)  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [5, 7, 1, 9, 8, 5] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((Two rolls a day - he's still 2 ahead as evening draws in and they start to tire. However, Inks told him to return by sunset. Will he break off pursuit?))  
> Inks: (Hmm.. Yeah, he does. Loyal kitty is loyal)  
> Inks: (Good practice though for the future)  
> ST: ((Heh.))  
> 

Maji returned empty-pawed at sundown, looking furious and cheated of the prey which he could easily have caught given just a little longer. In the meantime, Inks had rallied the rest of her procession and explained to them what had happened in the crowded half-minute or so of chaos; her bloody scrapes and the wounds of Xandia's guards proving their tale and distressing Pesala.

The body of the man who'd fallen was on the next level of the switchback down, and a few levels below that was the impact site of the elemental; a largeish crater. Near it was a crumbling tunnel in the rock of the cliff-wall - evidently the badger-like creature had opted to flee into its preferred environment and lick its wounds.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Perception+Archery to analyze their gear, 2-dot assistant bonus.))  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [5, 4, 5, 7, 8, 5, 2] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [8, 8, 9, 1, 8, 8, 7, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

Inks ran an eye over the equipment they'd gathered from the bodies as they moved on. There were no identifying marks, no papers, no crests - not even any little personal possessions like talismans or rings or necklaces. But she knew craftsmanship, and the bows were very high-quality. The arrows were too - and they odd; weren't types she recognized.

"Moon arrows," Xandia said from one side of her, sketching the crescent shape of the arrowhead with a finger. Both points faced forwards. "They're terrible against armour, but they do horrific damage against flesh. And these," she lifted another one, which came to a fine, needle-like point that looked like a simple narrowing of the shaft. "These are meant for armoured targets. Neither are the normal broadhead kind used for hunting. These ST: men knew they'd be shooting at an unarmoured target and something covered in thick hide or metal." 

Very deliberately, she looked between Inks and the grumpy, pacing form of Maji. 

"Well, at least they weren't a Wyld Hunt." Inks sighed. "...yet. Shit."

"Hmm... Save these- I've got an ally or two back in Gem who'd know these better than I." Looking down at herself, she sighed. "It's going to be a pain repairing this dress... She allowed her anima to die down, and was already feeling the weight of exhaustion. "Neither of us are particularly good fighters, I guess?" She gave Pipera a thin smile. 

Falling down to her knees, she threw her arms around Maji, hugging him hard. "Maji here is the best and strongest. A proper warrior-prince and tiger-god." 

Maji rumbled, pleased and smug and protective, and butted his head against her affectionately. Then he turned and made a huffing nod at Pesala, who nodded seriously and moved in to sit on Inks' lap. 

"I'm going to doctor for you like you doctored for Papi," she explained firmly. "So hold still while I clean you up and put bandages on."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, we can probably assume that Inks fixes herself up by the time they reach the site, so, stunt if you wish for any further things you want to do on the remainder of the journey.))  
> 

Inks blinked once, then laughed. "Oh... Pesala!" She laughed harder, and pulled her dress aside to show the wound. "It's already sealed up. I'm as tough as a goddaughter, tough as you, though I'm hardly as experienced." There wasn't even a line marring her tattoo- the skin had come together so well. That was more a testament to her skill than any Exalted resilience. "But you can help me clean up and get changed."

>   
> ST: ((Pesala may decide she wants tattoos like that as well. To which her Papi will firmly say "no".))  
> ST: ((She will also be very impressed at the healing, if you want to show that.))  
> 

Even as she said this, it was clear that her cleansing gem was working its magic- the dried blood, sweat and dirt was flaking away from her dress, refusing to stick to her body any longer than absolute necessary. The dress itself, while not a lost cause, was not worth repairing right then and there.

Forcing herself to stay awake, Inks made a point of showing the caravan, Xandia included, what was going on, after Pesala retrieved some rags. Instead of dipping into their stores of water, Inks cast a spell on a nearby stone, far enough away from the path as to not wash it away, but allowing the caravan to wash and bathe as one does on the road. 

After that, she showed her wound, explained her techniques, and asked that everyone keep an eye on her while she slept rest of the injuries off.  
  


>   
> Inks: (okay, all I really need is Wound-Mending Care Technique, unless you think it can't apply to herself, I'll heal X+3 HLs at end of the day)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [4, 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 6, 4, 8, 2, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (7 total, not that I need it.)  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> Inks: (the more pressing thing is that Inks got drained hard by flaring her anima)  
> ST: ((Yes, that was 10 hours of strenuous activity.))  
> ST: ((Happily, as long as she can spend the rest of the next day or two asleep, she'll be fine.))  
> ST: !ex 3; ST: [4, 6, 1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (aye. on paper she should've been unconscious, since she only has sta 2 res 3.)  
> Inks: (but spending wp to stay awake is fine)  
> ST: ((... I will remember that in future. :3))  
> ST: ((She can and does get her rest; the rest of the trip is uneventful. So!))  
> 

Inks spent most of the rest of the trip - three more days - catching up on sleep and recovering from her exertions; with Pipera joining her. Apparently her aide wasn't much more resilient than her when it came to baring her soul to its fullest. Happily, the trip was uneventful as they worked their way lower; leaving the main trail and traveling south along the border for two days until they descended into a long, high-walled valley.

Inks saw the end coming before they reached it - they were walking into a dead-end abutted on two sides by steep, rocky hills and on the third by a sheer cliff. But the closer they got to the end of the cul-de-sac, the more her senses started prickling. 

The plants were changing. The wood of the trees and bushes looked and felt more like rock, and the leaves were hard and stiff and blue-tinged; resembling the kind she was accustomed to only in shape and weight. When the wind blew through the bushes they clattered and tinkled; as if the leaves were little plates of ceramic tinkling against each other. 

A few minutes later, as they got closer to the epicentre, Inks started to see other things. There were skeletons here and there - human bones that had been left in sitting positions leaning back against trees or lying peacefully with their arms folded. They looked fossilised; turned to stone, and blue crystal was visible in the cracks that ran through and along them. 

That same blue crystal made up the shells of the animals that lived here - armadillos, mostly, which seemed to have no natural predators from the number of them that scurried through the trees and plodded from bush to bush snapping up insects. Pesala immediately gave chase to a pair of small ones, and disappeared off into the undergrowth to a tune of tinkling chimes and crashes. 

And then Inks saw it. 

At one point it must have been a boulder - a boulder twice the size of a house; partially buried in the ground. But something had split it open down the middle, and the two halves had fallen away from each other, so that now it lay open in a V with a space the size of a small room between the pieces.   
And within the boulder was the largest cerulean-agate geode Inks had ever seen.  
  


>   
> ST: (( https://crystalsoftheworld.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Agate-Geodes-Blue-600x600.jpg ))  
> ST: ((Two of those, facing each other in a (\\_/) formation.))  
> Inks: (nice)  
> 

"It's called the Broken Egg," Xandia said; quiet so as not to disturb the aura of peace and stillness that hung over the entire cul-de-sac. "Hundreds of years ago, our people - the Coxati tribes - used this as sacred ground to hold marriages, agree truces, lay our elders' bodies to rest and bless newborns. It's used less nowadays, but nobody will dare fight here still."

>   
> ST: ((Perception+Occult to analyze the demesne, Diff 2 with a threshold at Diff 5.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; Inks: [9, 2, 2, 10, 1, 6, 1, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Inks wholeheartedly believed her. Perhaps this had once only been a place of earth, but so many years of peaceful diplomacy and fateful events had shifted the nature of the demesne, aspecting it as strongly to serene destinies as to the elemental flows of the rock and stone and crystal.  
The entire valley felt like her glimpse of Venus.

>   
> ST: ((2-dot demesne; Earth 1, Serenity 1))  
> Inks: (Ahh, you're using those hybrid rules!)  
> ST: ((^_^))  
> 

Inks whistled softly. "This place is amazing... It's not just a place of Earth, but the stars. Venus specifically. The blue kind of gives it away." She took a moment to make a more in depth evaluation of the geomancy, in order to make sure her plan to shape a fortress-embassy wouldn't disrupt things overmuch. She had a fair amount of leeway with the architecture though...

>   
> ST: ((Int+Occult, Diff 5))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; Inks: [2, 5, 4, 8, 3, 4, 10, 1] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Her leeway was mostly distance. If she worked at the end of the valley, she could raise some quite sizable buildings as long as she blended them into the steep hills and kept them natural-looking, though she was almost certain that any stone she pulled up would be agate-ridden. If it wasn't as soon as she pulled it up, it would be after a few years - something about this place made blue crystal form inside of stone, shell, bone... anything with an earthen nature.

Closer to the epicentre, though... Xandia's geomancer had been right, this place was delicate. The starry aspect of the demesne wouldn't tolerate any kind of fortress in this place of peace, and anything too large would disrupt the focus point of the boulder. Though, she mused, a small pavilion of pure agate - open or closed - could probably nestle directly between the halves of the Egg and actually enhance the geomancy some. It would only be a small room and a table - but that would intensify its nature as a space of peaceful negotiation alone; with no room for garrisoned troops or quarrels.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Can Inks make a pavilion with RtEB... ? Hmm, I cannot, as per the text of the spell in Book of 3 Circles)  
> ST: ((... you should be able to.))  
> Inks: (Essence-saturated ground like demenses/pole of earth cannot be affected)  
> ST: ((Ah.))  
> Inks: (Do you want to change that y/n?)  
> ST: ((No, that works. So yeah, you can raise non-military buildings outside the demesne proper as long as you're careful and keep them them aesthetically themed around the "peaceful negotiation and rituals" aspects of Serenity and largely stone structures that blend with the valley walls.))  
> ST: ((And constructing a pure agate pavilion between the halves of the Egg to encourage more use as such a space would give the potential for it to grow in power and become Earth 1, Serenity 2, after enough use.))  
> Inks: (Cool, but I'd need to do that another way, instead of RtEB)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Though anything you draw up in this valley will have agate in it and look blueish. If Inks splits open, like, any pebble in the demesne proper, she'll find that it's a blue-agate geode.))  
> ST: ((The bones of people who were buried here - or rather, left in peaceful poses to decompose and petrify - have fossilized into stone and had agate form on the insides.))  
> ST: ((Inks is preeeeetty sure the same thing would happen to _living_ bone if someone were to live here for too long.))  
> 

Noting the particulars, Inks set about shaping her latest spell- though she reminded her fellows that she'd need another hard nap afterwords just in case. First she walked the boundaries, calling out to the creatures that lived there, urging them to stand aside for her working.

Then she shaped tawny spires of Essence, plunging them into the ground like tent stakes as she marked out building after building. It would not be anything martially inclined, focused instead on the comfort of any pilgrims or diplomats, and the resonances of Essence the valley focused upon. 

Three stories high, merging into the valley walls at the edges in a graceful, welcoming slope. The complex had no gate, berm or mote. Towers behind this immediate wall would serve as lodgings for visitors, as well as wide paving stones to stand upon. Summoning her Essence into a great shping surge, she drew up the agate-infused rock from the earth and sculpted it to her will! 

Her anima flared to full, casting crystalline lines of light on every surface and sending the agates shining bright lustrous blue. Before her the complex took shape, and in a matter of minutes, was complete.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Spell is shaped, Inks is now tireds again, and sleeping off the anima flare)  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

Etiyadi's contingent arrived four days after Xandia's; thirty strong and with their leader at their head riding a stallion with a flaming mane and eyes like molten lava. The ground steamed where it trod.

"Inks, darling!" she cried upon dismounting, sweeping forward to hug her. "So good to see you again. I'm sure you've missed the pleasure of my company since you left." 

The smug look towards Xandia and the unspoken claim on greater intimacy with their negotiation was not a subtle one. 

Inks laughed, deciding to avoid a more ribald comment in favor of something a bit more diplomatic. "Oh I've kept myself busy. Thank you for joining us, _Saudari_ Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth." She returned the hug with all due relish, however, guiltlessly enjoying the affection. "We have lodgings- but any guards will have to stay a bit aways away to maintain purity of the sacred site." 

"Only the negotiating parties and their immediate advisors should approach the demense." She pulled away with a smile, before bowing to Xandia. "Any questions or concerns before we head in?" 

"A few private matters that I'm sure we can discuss between us, in my quarters," Etiyadi purred with a sultry look. "We'll start tomorrow - I'm weary from the road, and one can't possibly be expected to talk over points that people will be stubborn about when one is still tired."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hah, that's a tough one.)  
> 

"Hmm. That should be agreeable. I'll see if I can free up some time for you tonight as well-" Inks temporized, but the smile she gave Etiyadi was sincere despite her reservations. "I'll come by soonest, or offer my apologies otherwise." After Etiyadi swanned off, Inks shot Pipera a meaningful glance and sought out her council away from either diplomatic entourage.

"So on the one hand, Etiyadi's hot for me and I'm not against another merging of interests, but I'd at least like a pretense of impartiality here." Inks gave the other woman a wry grin. "I could take the opportunity to ask her a few things, maybe about the raiders who attacked us, or her thoughts on the negotiation."  
  


>   
> Inks: (metatextually asking Pipera for insights.)  
> 

"Don't sleep with her, then," was Pipera's first piece of sage advice. "Though you've already stumbled on that score, but you've spent about as long cozying up to Xandia, so your negotiating impartiality is at least roughly equally biased on both sides."

She held the disapproving poker face for a few seconds before a twitch of her lip clued Inks in that she wasn't entirely serious. 

"I'd suggest a meal. Perhaps a large meal - have Maji drag something large in from a ways outside the demesne, put some skill into it and give everyone here a treat. Sit yourself and Etiyadi on a separate table within sight, and she can feel like she's special without anyone else worrying that you're doing more than talking." She tilted her head, considering. "Mmm, and it balances the fact that Xandia had you to herself on the way here, as well - it'll be seen as letting the saudari get her points made one-to-one to make up for that." 

"But, to reiterate," she added, leaning in to emphasize her point and possibly-accidentally giving Inks a rather nice view of her chest in profile, "when she invites you back to her room, which she will; don't go. Understand, Miss Inks?" 

"Of course!" Inks nodded, beaming. "Oh you are amazing." She grinned. "I think I can skate on any liaisons after the talks, at least. But agreed." With a plan in mind, she called for Maji and instructed him to make her proud.  
  


>   
> Inks: (do I need to roll anything to set this up?)  
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Survival for Maji to bring in something good - Diff 3 base to have enough to feed everything - and then Int+... Craft, I guess, to cook something amazing.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [6, 8, 9, 4, 2, 3, 8, 5, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [8, 10, 9, 8, 8, 8, 7, 2, 5, 7, 3, 9, 6, 8, 1, 4, 9, 10, 5, 10] was rolled for 16 successes.  
> ST: ((Oh, and Inks is about 50-50 on Pipera doing that lean-closer move deliberately because she knows Inks responds to things like that and she wanted to make very, very sure she didn't blow the negotiation (by blowing one of the negotiators, lol). :P))  
> Inks: (I noticed)  
> ST: ((Inks stretches a just-about-adequate amount of meat and some gathered plants to make a _fucking amazing_ meal. Stunt as you wish.))  
> 

Maji's successful hunt of a particularly handsome mountain goat goes over well, though Inks was fairly certain he thought he could have done better. In any case, with the tools, spices and other fare they foraged from the nearby valley, Inks had enough at hand to make a proper banquet! The table all but groaned under the weight of her culinary delights, prepared before their eyes glittering knife and deft application of magic. The fire burned better under her encouraging word, bringing the meat to a delicate crusty sear while holding the juices inside.

>   
> Inks: (...does Pipera know Sweeten the Tap Method?)  
> ST: ((She does. Actually, hmm. I'll write you up a list of "things Inks knows Pipera can do" in IC language, since I haven't been good about invoking them where I really should have.))  
> Inks: (appreciated)  
> 

Fresh campfire bread joined dark bottles of Coxati wines, carted in soft-packed crates for the diplomats and their entourages to enjoy. As Pipera suggested, Inks made a point to set Etiyadi aside at place of pride, just a bit separate and served the Coxati lord personally. Her own dress was resplendent and comfortably daring, and she sat down to eat with the god-daughter lord. "I hope it is to your liking!"

"Marvelous, dear," the volcano queen smiled. "And how have you been on Xandia's dreary little hilltop? Bored senseless, no doubt?" 

"Hardly. I spent several weeks with their medical enclave, the Torchbearers, and cleared their ward of terminal cases." She reached for a roll and crock of goat's milk butter, smiling. "How've you been in your lands?"

"Worse for your absence, of course," Etiyadi smiled, sipping at her wine. Inks had forgotten, a little, how beautiful the woman could be when she turned on the charm and focused all her attention on a person. "Which is why I came immediately when you suggested this meeting. And on that note; have you managed to talk that irritating woman into those concessions we discussed?"

"Somewhat." Inks hedged. "I'm here to mediate between both of you, and to make sure you both leave happy. This is largely separate from my trade mission from Gem." She went on to summarize the particulars from Xandia's side. More importantly though, she watched Etiyadi's face and manner for reactions, with an eye towards reading what she held most dear.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I am attempting to diagnose Etiyadi's principles where relevant- I logchecked the favors, and Etiyadi from her mouth wants 'Public diplomatic promise that Xandia will honor her authority over her lands, and no attempts made to oust/overrule her.)  
> ST: ((Perception + [Investigation or Socialize] vs her (Man+Soc)/2.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +2 "Per 5 Int 3 style 2 +1d perk, +2 stunt, 4m 2nd invest for +2sux"; Inks: [4, 5, 3, 7, 8, 9, 8, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Meanwhile, Etiyadi's score is 3 for that halved pool.))  
> Inks: (So I threshold 6, which means I hopefully get something good)  
> ST: ((Is Inks going over Xandia's full offer now, rather than at the negotiating table, or just reassuring her that the aim is for both of them to leave happy and that this isn't primarily about Gem?))  
> Inks: (Reassuring Etiyadi, and keeping her Gem business generally separate. She's being open about _having_ Gem business, but this is a Coxati matter on Coxati sacred ground... and I think she'd make that clear to Etiyadi, who likes sacredness?)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Etiyadi was inhumanly beautiful, powerfully charismatic and backed up by considerable divine power in the form of her father. Perhaps that - and the fact that her usual environment left people sweating so heavily they could barely see - was why she'd never really mastered a poker face. Inks could easily read the annoyance in her slight pout, but it wasn't an emotion with much depth. She was still delighted to be getting a fort on the trade route, and Inks' assurance that she'd be leaving happy was taken in stride without a hint of doubt.

It wasn't impossible that she was considering the military uses of such a fort in extorting money from the trade route or arming her border, Inks thought... but that was probably more the reflex of wanting to flex her power, and anyway they could talk her down from such things at the negotiating table. 

Sipping her own wine, Inks smiled past the edge of the cup. "If there's anything more specific about your position, I'd like to hear it now before we sit down at the negotiating table for the first time. What are you willing to budge on, what aren't you. Concessions are a tool for both of you. I don't think Xandia wants to push any harder than necessary either. You're both competent, ambitious heads of state- after all."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Attempting to put Etiyadi in a good bargaining mood for tomorrow)  
> Inks: (and asking for a refresh on the particulars, unless I don't need it)  
> ST: ((Cha+Pres, and you're pretty much on-point with the Comfort/Religion/Punishment trio. I'd say we can resolve this in two scenes of negotiation at the table, the first to convince in principle, the second to bureaucracize on details.))  
> Inks: (Sounds good)  
> Inks: !ex 17 +1 "Cha 2 Pres 4 Ex 6 Style 3 +1 autosux, +2 stunt); Inks: [9, 1, 8, 6, 5, 4, 4, 5, 1, 9, 2, 1, 9, 3, 3, 1, 2] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Oh and Mastery of Small Manners for +1 App)  
> 

Their talks went well, and by the end of the evening Inks had a solid idea of both positions. Religion was going to be the swaying point, she suspected - Xandia would almost certainly get her way with disallowing fiat punishments, and there was no doubt that Etiyadi would keep her luxuries, but the prominence and dominance of her father's cult would be decided by who could present the better arguments at the table.

Xandia was the more stubborn of the two of them by far... but her persuasive skill depended heavily on setting up the conditions and situation and even the meeting place to make the result a foregone conclusion, and here she was outside her home ground. 

Etiyadi didn't have the same raw force of conviction, but she was the more charismatic of the two, and her beauty might manage to sway even someone as committed to avoiding bias as Xandia. 

Inks herself, of course, was merely here as an impartial mediator; without an official stake in which way the deal swung. Her main priority was making sure it _did_ swing - and that neither of them hit a sticking point so severe that they stormed away and ruined this carefully-worked-for plan.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so this is the convince in principle scene?)  
> ST: ((Indeed! So. All three of you are making rolls. Etiyadi and Xandia are basically fighting over which of them gives up two of their points and which of them gives up one. Inks is making _her_ roll to keep them at the table and make sure the deal goes through at all - if she does worse than the loser, they will definitely leave in a huff and the trade route won't get set up.))  
> Inks: (Good- any penalties on this roll, or is it just straight contested?)  
> ST: ((Since they're on neutral ground, it's a straight contested roll for Xandia and Etiyadi. Inks, however, actually has some help here. The demesne they're negotiating in is a serene place with a strong blanket Fate - it gives her a _+3_ circumstance bonus to keeping the peace and reaching a mutually satisfactory resolution.))  
> ST: ((She made a good choice in holding the talks here.))  
> Inks: (yay!)  
> ST: ((Inks will be rolling [Charisma or Manipulation]+[Presence or Socialize]. I shall scene-set...))  
> Inks: (I have a stunt half written already, will append to it!)  
> 

The morning light was peeking over the valley walls as talks began within the Egg. The space between the two halves of the vast geode was only large enough for a dozen people, and someone had ringed in with a circle of huge blue agates. Or... no, Inks realized. Those weren't stones, and nobody had placed them there. They were the coiled-up, calcified forms of the little agate-shelled armadillos that inhabited this place. She'd noticed that the older ones were slower and more crystal than flesh - these ones must have been drawn to the heart of the demesne as they neared the end of their lives, creating a sacred circle with their bodies of their own accord.

Though the pavilion Inks had envisioned was only a distant dream, there _was_ a table of sorts in the middle of the ring - a simple slab of solid agate that Etiyadi and Xandia knelt on either side of; the former on a beautifully woven mat, the latter on nothing. Inks sat on the third side, and their advisors lined up as per her instructions - not behind them, but on their left and right, and mingled among one another rather than in two opposed groups. 

The two huge, smooth faces of the geode seemed to hum, like a finger on a wine-glass just below the level of notice, and Inks could feel the stony zone of peace in the hollows at the centre of each one where the essence tokens of this holy place collected.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I stunt/roll first, or do they stunt/roll first?)  
> Inks: (Actually I got an idea, if you don't mind my stunt including them starting the debate)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Throw an abstracted account of their ~~argument~~ debate in, and yeah, you can stunt the scene. You have a good handle on their personalities and what they want.))  
> 

Standing between the two parties, in the shadow of the armadillo-geodes, Inks was struck by the fact that she was involved in deciding the fates of nations. That she had put herself in such a position without much forethought. That it sounded fun and entertaining, that it could pay off incredible dividends if it worked. It was a humbling thought.

Of course, humble was a word meant for other people. So was subtlety. She grinned, happy and unabashed. She reached into her dress and pulled out a silver dinar, showing them both its marker's mark and an etching of a portside dock somewhere in the Scavenger Lands. "Call it in the air ladies!" 

Inks flipped the coin, and the debate started in earnest. Of the pair, Xandia was the more well reasoned, with carefully marshaled arguments and rationale behind every decision. Etiyadi was emotional, charismatic and speaking more like the force of nature her father was known for. They'd left true hostility at the door, getting into the debate in the way only lords and kings could.

Pipera, deserving of the most fat bonus Inks could think of, was her lifeline. When her executive saw Etiyadi simmer with an eruption to follow, she caught Inks's eye and urged the Solar to turn on the charm. Etiyadi diverted neatly to flattery and flirtation, and Xandia for her part looked on in bemusement. By the same token, when Etiyadi's arguments drove Xandia's more rational imperialistic stance to irritation, Inks carefully teased apart Fire-in-Earth's grandiose statements into more digestible, practical considerations. 

Feeling the gentle touch of Serenity on her words and deeds, Inks did her level best to break down the points of contention into digestible, conceivable diplomatic actions and favors to trade. A stronger, Unified Coxati might've been a threat to Gem... but in the long term it was an investment she was willing to risk.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Nice. Also lol at the coin toss. Okay, let's see...))  
> ST: ((Etiyadi))  
> ST: !ex 16 +1; ST: [4, 5, 2, 4, 3, 7, 2, 8, 1, 10, 2, 1, 8, 7, 7, 1] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Xandia))  
> ST: !ex 13 +1; ST: [10, 8, 10, 5, 10, 1, 4, 8, 3, 4, 8, 3, 5] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Yeush, tough act to follow)  
> ST: ((2-die stunt from Inks, go for it!))  
> Inks: (Alright... Hmm, Would Sun Queen Admiration STyle work better here than Sexy Stunner?)  
> ST: ((Yes, and the second bonus applies.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay, so cha 2 soc 3 +3 style +1 perk, +2 stunt... +5 1st socialize. Gonna spend my last conviction channel until the story arc ends for +5d. +3 tool bonus from the demense. Aide from Pipera?)  
> Inks: (No charms she can use on my behalf?)  
> ST: ((No Charms in this part of the debate, though her contract-writing will come in useful later. She is a +3 assistant, though, because this kind of stuff is her secondary skill.))  
> Inks: !ex 27 +1; Inks: [3, 2, 6, 5, 5, 1, 6, 9, 4, 1, 5, 6, 1, 5, 10, 6, 7, 7, 1, 2, 6, 2, 7, 1, 10, 3, 2] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (daaaang)  
> ST: ((hooo, that was close. But you beat Etiyadi's score, so while she's grumpy, she stays at the table.))  
> ST: ((And Xandia _could_ walk away but has no reason to because she's winning.))  
> Inks: (Alright, next scene~?)  
> ST: ((Hang on.))  
> 

Hours passed as the arguments went back and forth. This ancient site, which had long gone half-forgotten, once again saw high-level negotiations take place; words wielded like weapons only to be tempered by Inks and the aura of the surroundings into a more civil back-and-forth.

And surprisingly, despite the situation not favouring her style of persuasion, it was Xandia's reasoned arguments that were winning out. Etiyadi didn't like it, she took it with bad grace... but the soothing vibrations of the crystal behind her and the delicate ministrations of Inks and Pipera kept her listening to her rival, and bit by bit the three of them won her over, convincing her to relinquish not only her power over punishment but also the dominance of her cult.

It was with a bitter expression that eventually agreed, but agree she did, allowing them to break for lunch as the sun reached its zenith above them. Inks made sure to enjoy the respite - the next part would be hashing out exactly how this new political relationship would work, and she knew from experience that these things were one part negotiation to nine parts paperwork.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Bur + Pipera bonus? 3 way contested roll as before?)  
> ST: ((No, at this point it's a joint roll to accumulate successes and solidify this arrangement. You need (Background dots describing the polity)x10 successes to draft the paperwork - Xandia and Etiyadi's domains as a joint polity would be Backing 4, so that's 40 sux. Xandia, Etiyadi, Inks and Pipera can all roll Int+Bureaucracy to accumulate it. Not getting enough means that there are holes and situations that the agreement doesn't cover and contradictory or absent bits that will cause problems down the line.))  
> ST: ((Xandia and Etiyadi both enjoy assistant dice from the advisors they brought for this purpose.))  
> 

Arduous or not, the paperwork was far less intimidating than actually making the sale. Inks acted as scribe, able to write faster than Xandia or Etiyadi could speak, drafting clause and proviso as needed to protect everyone's interests. Pipera herself assisted more directly, with a keen eye on imprecise wording that could become a diplomatic terror some years down the road.

>   
> Inks: (stunted!)  
> ST: ((Pipera can also use two Charms; one to conceal hidden clauses that benefit one party - which in this case could be Inks, if she wants?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Since I don't know how it works just yet, I'll try that later. )  
> ST: ((And the other seals the contract so that a deliberate breach will inflict unsoakable lethal damage on the breaching party - accidental breaches don't inflict damage unless the offender refuses to fix their breach within a reasonable period. This binds Inks and Pipera to the contract as well, which means they can't break it when dealing with either Etiyadi or Xandia in future.))  
> ST: ((I assume Inks is fine with her using that one. :P))  
> Inks: (Yeah, fairly fine. I wish I knew about some of this earlier, but I appreciate it now regardless!)  
> ST: ((Mmm, like I said, I've kind of dropped the ball on Pipera's charm usage. List will be coming before the next session.))  
> ST: ((So then, Etiyadi rolls first:))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [4, 5, 8, 8, 10, 7, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((Not bad. Xandia adds to that with a rather more respectable dicepool.))  
> ST: !ex 16; ST: [6, 10, 6, 4, 3, 4, 4, 3, 10, 5, 3, 6, 7, 7, 1, 4] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> Inks: (12/40, yeah?)  
> ST: ((And gets exactly the same number of successes. Presumably she is very tired.))  
> ST: ((Yes. Inks now, then Pipera.))  
> Inks: !ex 22 +1 "int 5 bur 5 ex +10; 1wp autosux"; Inks: [9, 6, 4, 2, 10, 10, 3, 9, 1, 5, 6, 7, 9, 6, 9, 10, 10, 6, 4, 7, 7, 7] was rolled for 17 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Bringing us nicely up to 29, almost halfway there purely on her own. Nice.))  
> Inks: (Pipera's pool- I roll/you roll?)  
> ST: ((And Pipera has Int+Bur 4+5+3 Hidden Depths Accountancy Style+2 stunt+8 Excellency dice+1wp, meaning 22+1, same as Inks.))  
> Inks: !ex 22 +1 "Big money!"; Inks: [3, 8, 1, 10, 8, 10, 7, 1, 10, 9, 1, 9, 2, 6, 8, 3, 7, 3, 7, 9, 9, 8] was rolled for 18 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Niiiiiiice))  
> 

It took a while. It took a _long_ while, as the day wore on and the piles of paper built up. Without Inks' incredible speed, this would have taken days, if not weeks - but with her to act as a scribe, and the sheer inhuman organizational _genius_ of Pipera ruthlessly clearing up the murky waters of every possible scenario or situation, the work progressed with an efficiency and speed that left even Inks herself impressed.

By the end of it, her wrist was on fire, her eyes were sore, her back and feet and knees all hurt from pacing and kneeling on the hard ground and she'd be perfectly happy to never see another pen in her _life_... 

... but as the setting sun dipped below the horizon, _Saudari_ Etiyadi Fire-In-Earth and Thlatht-Waeishrun Xandia put pen to paper and signed an agreement that heralded a new age of peace and prosperity for both their peoples.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (Session end?)  
> ST: ((Session end.))  
> Inks: (Story arc end, or is that still ongoing?)  
> Inks: (mostly for virtues)  
> ST: ((End of the Xandia-Etiyadi miniarc, though not the overarching Coxati arc since you still want a quick visit with Moto.))  
> ST: 6xp + 2 Sxp + 2 mxp + training time for any single Bureaucracy, Presence or Socialise charm that would have been applicable.  
> Inks: (dang, I'll have to think on that)  
> Inks: great session ST! *hugs*  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: at least you have the high of successfully negotiating this deal!  
> Inks: yes!  
> ST: Oh, and  
> ST: Inks is making Allies of both parties as well as their combined polity, getting access to the entire region, setting up a trade route between Xandia and Gem that goes through Etiyadi's land (who she has also negotiated a better deal for Gem with), and investing in a future unified Coxati despite it nooooot really being in Gem's best interests.  
> ST: There's a fair bit of Sorcery she can Anchor in them, in other words - the either Ally, the combined Backing... she could cast Food from the Aerial Table through Backing (Coxati coalition) and make food native to the region which is also a meal fit for a prince.  
> ST: though, uh  
> ST: this was, um...  
> ST: very much not the Piercing Sun Option  
> ST: he prooooobably won't approve of her having done things diplomatically so that everybody wins and the Coxati profit too, rather than by threatening them with getting smashed in the face by a DB war-sorcerer and his personally trained special forces if they don't cough up more goods for less money :P  
> 


	34. Session 34: The Journey - Impacci's Vengeance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter has a different formatting style due to being written from a google doc over several weeks.

Session 34 Play By Document!

Last time on Sunlit Sands, Inks, Xandia and Etiyadi forged an agreement that strengthened ties between their polities, and in turn laid stronger foundations for the eventual unification of the Coxati states.

As a result, Inks now has Ally 3 (Etiyadi), Ally 3 (Xandia) and Backing 4 (Coxati Coallition). She has also laid the groundwork for the trade route running out of the Coxati states and into Gem, which includes the preferential rates for Etiyadi foodstuffs. Note that Etiyadi’s commitment to this alliance is not publicly known yet. Officially, this was just a trade agreement in which Etiyadi allowed Xandia to use a route through her lands in return for certain concessions.

Inks’s next goal is gathering her caravan of specialists and example tradegoods before embarking on the journey to Susilo Moto’s lands, getting to the bottom of the mystery as to why Rankar explicitly ordered her not to deal with him.

(ST: Notably, Inks has heard about Moto from Etiyadi - “he's ambitious. And smart. And rude, arrogant, vulgar, powerful... hm!” - and from her lands; that he’s “a man whose reckless genius has made him more enemies than allies” and has “a passion and natural talent for engineering that might even exceed her own tied to an ego that dwarfs Maji’s”, with the spoils of twenty years spent “building up the technology of his kingdom, restoring Shogunate ruins, delving for lost knowledge about ancient works of artifice and pissing off just about everyone who met him”.

She knows that he’s not much liked, but that the technology he provides is incredibly valuable, and so he is tolerated - or perhaps a better phrasing would be “endured” - and that apparently his gift for angering people extends even to inanimate landscape features, because a few rumours say that he earned the ire of the mountain that his Shogunate railway tunnels lead through a few years ago, and has restricted any more digging into its depths.

It is possible, though unlikely, that the Despot forbade her from meeting him so that she or Maji do not try to murder him within five minutes or so of his company. It is rather more possible that he did so because Solar + Earth Aspect Dragonblood + Shogunate Infrastructure = Impossible Threat... or for fear that Inks would immediately husbando Moto. Or perhaps even both. Etiyadi would like him to cough up the blueprints for the Shogunate-era geomantic volcano-taps she knows for a fact he's dug up, though Inks has already paid her “favour” by settling things with Xandia for her.)

The immediate challenge is the travel time- so assuming enough time passes, Inks will have trained to Survival 4, 2 weeks of the trip out to the Blue Stone Haven were ostensibly spent training, and training can be suspended for up to a month without issue as per 2e core. 

For Survival 4- Inks requires 6 more weeks of training without a tutor, or 3 more weeks with one. Then another 8 days learning Trackless-Region Navigation.

As of Session 33, the Coxati Trade Mission has been going on for approximately 15-16 weeks. We started in Descending Wood.  
Scene 1:  
Inks:  
Does anything external to Inks demand her attention?  
How shall we get her moving towards Susilo Moto’s land? Organize her trade caravan w/ a dramatic action?  
Invoke Xandia and Etiyadi for advice or assets heading into Moto’s lands? They’re Allies now/Inks has Backing, so she can start leveraging that.  
Finish training for Trackless Region Navigation.

\-- ST --

Before they left the beauty of the demesne and started the long and separate trips home, Xandia had one last thing to say to Inks. She caught her privately, tugging her aside into one of the uppermost rooms of the towers Inks had made with Maji on-guard outside and speaking in low tones.

“Be careful,” she advised. “You’re going up to see Susilo Moto next, yes? The equipment those men had; the assassins - Lord Pangasutri could have sent them, but so could Moto. And Moto’s known to make use of bound elementals.” She levelled Inks with a serious look. “The treaty is signed, and it won’t fall apart without you, but all the same - don’t die. It could spark a war with Gem, and it would be... disappointing. So be on guard, and stay alive.”

Inks rather thought she was neglecting the non-Coxati forces that could have sent them - from Rankar and Piercing Sun if they got wind of this coalition business to whoever sent a mob to attack her manor - but Xandia hadn’t seemed particularly interested in the politics of places beyond the Coxati’s borders, so maybe that wasn’t surprising. And a warning was still a warning.

\-- Inks --

[I’m probably writing too much, feel free to tell me how to cut this apart into something manageable.]

Organizing the caravans to leave the demesne was no particular chore, though Inks spent a fair amount of it offering her logistical advice and keeping things moving smoothly. Which wagon left in what order, some incidental bureaucratic blessings that the caravan masters could invoke, things like that. It went so smoothly in fact that she freed up enough time for the dignitaries themselves to relax before getting on the road again in fair style.

(Inks will spend appropriate time using Speed The Wheels, Bureau-Rectifying Method and Crack-Mending Technique on all three caravan groups.)

She’d listened to Xandia’s warning just as she finished restoring some of the lord’s caravan furnishings- cushions and such that made the trip more pleasant- though Xandia tended to eschew the overstuffed and perfumed luxuries Etiyadi favored. She thanked Xandia then with a customary smile, agreeing that her untimely death would be a disappointment.

With the diplomacy out of the way, she did sneak over to Etiyadi for a quick, impish kiss and, making it clear that she was interested in visiting again sometime later. The godsdaughter laughed and pouted, spoiled enough to try and cajole Inks to give up the expedition and stay with her, but savvy enough to know trying wouldn’t work. 

Rounding up the last of the stragglers and details took the better part of one evening- and Inks made a point of asking as politely as Pipera knew how if Etiyadi and Xandia would allow her to take some magically potent crystals and such from the demesne.

[Attempting to convince Xandia/Etiyadi for some magical material samples. Earth/Venus themed stuff?]

Of course, Pesala decided that she wanted to adopt some of the crystaline armadillos. Not that Inks blamed her. Then the tiger-daughter decided to stuff two smaller ones down her shirt and sashay around in a distinctly Inksian manner. In front of the diplomatic contingent. At least her father wasn’t there- safely keeping a handle on the trade caravan back in Xandia’s capital.

When she saw this, Inks blinked once, twice. Then nearly fell over laughing.

The reality was that Inks had a very narrow or fundamental lack of shame. At least, she did not take herself so seriously as to expect courtly bearing and demeanor every second, no matter what Pipera or the gathered dignitaries might think. Realizing what Pesala was up to, Inks started coaching her on the impersonation, but in the same way a mother might smile at their children playing at being grown up.

Convincing Pesala to leave her new friends behind was a challenge, but one Inks managed neatly. Maji helped too, matter-of-factly picking Pesala up by the back of her cloak and depositing her sulking form on the waiting wagon bench next to Vahti. 

Finally- though far sooner than any ordinary diplomatic endeavor had any right to be- the three caravans left the valley and headed on to their next adventure!

* * *

Once the caravans were on the way, Inks sent Maji off on a short trip to inform Ajjim and the others that they would be meeting at an upcoming border town- the selection of which came down to Pipera knowing the area far better than Inks did.

After that, days on the road passed into weeks, and Inks spent most of that time wtih Maji, when she wasn’t leading the her own section of the caravan. The trip back to Xandia’s land and the rest of her group was filled with careful exploration. 

“C’mon big guy- walk me through it again.” Inks smiled and scratched Maji’s skull, right between his ears. 

It was a pattern they’d fallen into, Maji would stalk off into the nearby switchbacks and rocky passes, reminding them that he was a much a mountain-tiger as a plains or jungle beast. Inks would follow- far enough to get some practice in, falling into the shape of Essence Maji left for her to find. It was not a literal image, but she felt that knowing, the sense of a breakthrough or deep insight that had become an integral part of her life.

[Training with Maji, for Survival 4 at least, Trackless Region Navigation if possible.]

Picking Ajjim and the rest of the caravan up at Xandia was easy, and she finally parted ways with Xandia herself. Not however, before buying and customizing a handsome, long leather jacket. As much as she lamented the lack of appeal, her gem of cleansing kept her comfortable and the tough hide was sturdy enough to turn aside a blade or arrow.

[Buying a buff jacket for Res 1 - I don’t know if Inks can get a better quality one in Xandia-land, but she has Charms for it if need be.]

So armored, Inks sat astride Windroarer, while Maji and the Simhata tolerated each other’s proximity due to their shared loyalty to the mistress. Looking over, Inks caught Pipera’s eye. The blue-haired woman was sitting on the outer bench of the lead wagon, while Ajjim caught up with his daughters adventure.

“So!” Inks called out, smiling. “We’re going to visit Susilo Moto. It’s going to be fun!”

\-- ST --

((Okay, roll me Int+Bur at Diff 3 to see how quickly and efficiently you get organised, and Cha+Pre to plead for samples. Survival 4 you can train, TRN is untutored.  
... also Pipera’s hair is dark blue with white frosting from her Aspect Markings, not black.))

\-- Inks --

(Speed the Wheels demands it’s own roll, while Bureau-Rectifying negates penalties on the supplemented action, so I’ll give you three rolls! I have also adjusted the doc to reflect calling Ajjim via Maji-Messenger for time management)

Speed the Wheels, 1st bur for 10m, 22d = 14 +3 successes!  
Organization + Bureau-Rectifying, 1st bur for 10m, 22d = 11 successes!  
This Charm reduces the external penalties on that action by the Solar’s Essence. It permanently reduces any internal penalties that organization suffers due to endemic corruption or inefficiency by one.  
So within the scope of Xandia and Etiyadi’s diplomatic caravans as ‘organizations’, they’re now Super Efficient!  
Sample Pleading, 1st presence for 6m, 17d = 10 successes!

\-- ST --

Inks and her little convoy set off from the border town she’d left Ajjim at in good time, with a precious blessed pot of blue crystals in one caravan and another full of geode-pebbles packed around a calcified armadillo. Pesala had put considerable effort into whining, pleading, demanding and pestering the adults into letting her have an armadillo-pet, but despite a surprising level of stubbornness she’d been unsuccessful.

((Pesala goes as far as channelling Conviction 3 on wanting an armadillo-pet, but only gets 3 successes - not enough to convince the grown-ups.))

Pipera was more exasperated than usual by Inks’ indulgence of the little girl’s play-acting, so Inks was left to decide on their route herself. There was only one major road into Moto’s territory that wouldn’t necessitate a long detour - and even that would put her out by about a week getting to the pass. Or she could try to cut across the mountains, though there weren’t even the rarely-used and rougher roads she’d used to get to Xandia here; just game trails and what trails she could blaze.

((Okay, you have a full harvesting of 2-dot Earth/Serenity essence tokens along with what we’ll call a set of 1-dot exotic ingredients and a single 2-dot - the geode-pebbles transformed by the demesne’s energies and the calcified armadillo. They might be able to work as exotic ingredients for artifacts no higher than their rating, if their nature suits. Or you can just use them to decorate the baths.

Inks has Maji as a tutor for Survival 4 but not TRN, and has the choice between a 200 mile trip over Difficult Highways (75 miles/week x3/4 Difficult terrain +1/4 Highways -1/4 Long Distance = three and a half weeks) or a 140 mile trip over Extreme terrain (75 miles/week x1/2 Extreme terrain -1/4 Long Distance - 1/8 Unfamiliar Land = six weeks - unless Inks can ignore travel penalties. However, the harder trip does count as tutelage for Trackless Region Navigation, as Inks struggles to make the landscape bend to her will.))

\-- Inks --

(Alright, so if we go the harder path, TRN takes 4+2 days to train (Surv 4 + Ess 2), but once that ticks over, so spending what amounts to a week faffing about in the wilderness actually will likely save us time. Fun how leaning into challenges makes you stronger!)

So Inks will have spent 3xp to learn Survival 4, and then 10xp to learn TRN. 

\-- ST --

((Yes, you’ll travel, lol, only about 25 miles in that first week, but then the other 115 will only take another twelve days, meaning a total trip of two and a half weeks.))

\-- Inks --

(I just love how the harder route is faster. Will I have to make additional rolls for food/foraging?)

\-- ST --

((You’ll be making daily Survival rolls at a higher Difficulty to find your way for those first six days, but the standard foraging assumptions stand - it’s not a harsh area yet. So, Diff 3 for the first day, which is basically starting out and getting out of the demesne valley and into the mountains proper and suchlike. Also, hmm, Charisma+Performance against the various MDVs of your caravan (most around 3 with loyalty taken into account) to convince them that this is a great idea that’s totally not going to get them killed. Pipera may be somewhat harder to talk into enthusiasm about this choice. She’ll go along with it either way, but your threshold successes will dictate how happy she is about it.))

\-- Inks --

(I do have to ask- since Pipera is… ah she is not an Ally yet, at least on my sheet) Okay, I think I have everything I need to write the next chunk.)

Cha 2, Perf 0, did story refresh last time? I think so. If it did, I am going to channel a Conviction for +5d… Stunt

Perched astride Windrarer, Inks stood up and addressed the gathered caravan as they paused at the most definitely not fork-in-the road. That was to say there was the single road, and Inks was pointing at what looked like treacherous, impassable awfulness. Standing up on the Simhata’s saddle, Maji budged alongside until he joined his mistress in assuaging concerns.

“Ladies and gentlemen- bear with me because I have a plan.” She pointed at the wilderness. “That is a trail I feel confident in blazing, and if my calculations are correct, will be faster and safer than following the road. It will be uncomfortable at first, but I will take every precaution- and Maji will be here to guard us.”

“I can with time, repair every damaged wagon.” She smiled brilliantly. “I can heal any cut or infection. I am leading us into a risk, yes, but it is a calculated one.” She drew Chronicle in a whorl of light and hefted it above her, one hand on the grip and the other on the flat of the blade. “I can cut through obstacles, let’s do it!”

(Cha 2 + Perf 0, +2 stunt, +5 Conviction) Rolled 4 sux! 10 9 7 6 4 3 2 2 1

\-- ST --

Her men were enthused enough to follow her... well, perhaps not anywhere, but certainly across the inhospitable heights of jagged rocks that stretched up ahead of them. Ajjim looked somewhat less convinced, and Pipera was downright sceptical, but neither voiced any disagreement out loud. The wagons turned, Windroarer and Maji prowled forward, and they began the climb.

((Int+Survival, Diff 3 for the first day))

\-- Inks --

(Since these are daily rolls, I’ll throw down my full boost of… 4 autosux per roll +9 rolled dice. Invoking Ajjim and Maji as survival aides as well.)

Roll 1 Day 1: 9d+4, rolled 10 successes + 4 autosux; 10 10 10 9 8 8 7 5 1

\-- ST --

((Okay, so you pass that easily.))

They made good time on their first day, rising high up into the hills and proceeding almost directly north along the border between Xandia and Etiyadi’s domains. The land here was where the highlands of the central Coxati lands began to tend downward, and there were stunning views out east from the rough mountain-goat trails they followed. From what the map said; this journey would be harsh in the extreme - there would be rivers to ford upstream from mighty waterfalls, steep climbs and sharp descents, chasms spanned by bridges that rarely if ever got maintenance. Only a madman or a fool would try such a thing with even so much as two men and a hand cart.

Inks proposed to do it with dozens of staff and a convoy of trade wagons - and beat the main road to Moto’s capital in the bargain.

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to fly, though?” Vahti complained. “I mean, if we flew we’d go way faster. And we’d only have to go up and down once each. If you ask me, boss, that sounds like something you should work on.”

(Second day’s roll; Int+Survival, Diff 4.))

\-- Inks --

To Vahti’s comment, Inks smiled. “I do want to build an airship or two at some point. And I know that Sorcery has a few options in that vein, but today, I think this is a good strategy.”

She paused for a moment, winking. “Besides, you’re a bit biased- you can already fly.”

Of the hazards though, Inks made sure to take point on as much as she could. Rickety bridges were reinforced by her shining hand- and she could walk on even the most treacherous slippery stones without falling. Chronicle could fell most trees- sparse as they were, and between Pipera throwing rope-trailing darts and Maji’s unbelievable strength, they could improvise ramps, bridges and other feats of engineering along the way.

(Int+Surv, 9d +2d stunt +4 autosux, 10 successes; 10 8 7 7 7 6 6 5 5 5 5)

\-- ST --

((Okay, roll me the third day at Diff 4 - the same stunt can apply again, since there’s no need to exchange stunts day by day, only when the roll conditions change.))

\-- Inks --

(Day 3: Int+Surv, 9d +2d stunt +4 autosux, 10 successes; 10 10 9 7 6 6 4 3 3 3 2)

\-- ST --

The second and third days saw all these obstacles and more traversed, as they headed further north. They were moving at a crawl - it was a good day when they made it five horizontal miles - but they were moving, and through terrain that most would call outright impassable.

On the morning of the fourth day, Pipera exited the private section of wagon she’d claimed for herself, turned around, surveyed the sky and swore.

“Inks,” she warned. “Storm. Late this afternoon, driving up from the south. There’ll be high winds and heavy rain. It will not be a good time to be up on the peaks.”

((So, you’re three days into extreme territory and there’s a storm coming. The base Int+Survival roll for navigating has bumped up to Difficulty 5 because you’re now in the high altitudes and seriously nasty terrain, but the heavy wind and rain impose a -2 external penalty. You also need to make a Wits+Survival roll at Diff 4 to keep everyone safe and not falling off the edge of a cliff, also with the -2. Hunkering down for shelter cuts it down to a -1 external penalty - it's still a heavy storm while you're up on high mountains where there are no real trails. If you stunt improvising shelter and cover, that'll count as a tool bonus.))

\-- Inks --

Inks sucked on her teeth, worrying her lip and frowning. “I’d be game for it some other day, just Maji and I maybe…” She shook her head and turned to Pipera with a will. “Help me get everyone bunkered up for the duration.”

Getting people organized was the more challenging part- Inks had to clear the space and sink stakes of tawny Essence into the ground at set intervals as she paced off the sorcerous construct. They couldn’t afford to enclose the wagons- but a careful angling of the structure would keep the wind off them as best it could, leaving the safer spaces inside for people. Vahti was no small boon, able to coax flame from her hands and into carefully arranged bundles of tinder and wood that became powerful, heartening fires- in proper hearths no less!. 

Losing a few hours to weather was worth their safety.

(Raising the Earth’s Bones, wits 2, surv 4, +3 autosux, +5 bonuses, rolled 7 sux, +3 auto, -6 from difficulty/penalty. Threshold of 4.)

[Day 4 Int+Surv, 11d rolled 2 sux, +4 sux, Diff 5, threshold 1.]

\-- ST --

They got a fair way during the morning, though not as far as Inks had wanted to. Lunchtime spelled the end of their travel as she raised a bunker for them and they got everyone inside.

The storm hit late in the afternoon, just as Pipera had predicted. And up here on the exposed flanks of a mountain, it hit like the stony elemental had. Pesala flinched into her father with every crack of thunder, while Vahti’s fists clenched tighter and tighter as the wind howled and screamed outside like a furious beast. Inks could hear the bellowing trumpets and deafening retorts of air elementals up in the sky, whipping the clouds into a frenzy. The angling of the structure around them kept the worst of it off, but it was still no less than every five or ten minutes that a spray of horizontal rain slashed in through the gaps, or a violent gust ricocheted dust and gravel around the enclosure. Nothing harmful, but a potent reminder of the natural forces raging without.

There were moans of fear from the men and women she’d brought along with her. Across from her, Inks saw Pipera’s lips moving ceaselessly and silently - in prayer, she guessed.

Towards the end of the hours-long nightmare, her aide’s voice wound its way over to her ears; whisper-soft but still somehow audible over the crashing wind and water outside.

“It’s the end of Fire,” Pipera’s voice said. “We’ve been lucky so far - it’s been a calm season, and the storms until now have come when we were on the roads or in cities. But this might not be the last one to hit while we’re up on these mountains, and we’re exposed out here. How sure are you that we can make the crossing intact?”

((Inks can choose to make another Charisma+Performance roll to buck up morale, though she doesn’t have to. And Pipera is not-so-subtly suggesting they turn back and try the safer route instead, though that would require Inks to suppress Conviction since she’s committed to this course of action.))

\-- Inks --

“I know you’re all tired- but I want to say something, as best I can.” Inks stood up in the main bunker chamber, lit by the firelight while the caravan handlers, Vahti, Ajjim, Pipera and Pesala all slowly perked up. Maji’s bulk budged up behind her, slotting neatly into the curve of Inks’s back as she spoke.

She stood up taller, and the mark upon her brow glowed golden. The innate glory of her nature started to shine through. She was sovereign, beautiful authority that cast light down from upon high.

“You’re all here because you trusted me- you put your faith in my skill if not my ledgerbook.” she smirked, free enough to joke about money. “But above all else… you invested in me. I owe it to you all to see you make good on that, for that to pay dividends. Nothing’s changed since we started- I can still fix the wagons, I can still see you safe through these mountains. All we need is just a bit more time.”

[Cha 2 Perf 0 + + Sun Queen Admiration Style (4d) + Conviction because oh god Inks is bad at this still. Also I keep forgetting, but this counts as Motivation boosting, because Mercantile Empire? So +1 to stunt rating and +1WP if she succeeds.]

Cha 2 + Perf 0 +3 stunt, +5 Conviction: 4 rolled successes; 8 8 8 8 6 6 5 2 2 1 1 1 1 1

 

\-- ST --

Her speech... didn’t go down well. Apparently, jokes about money weren’t enough to sway a crowd who were cold and damp and scared of being washed off a mountaintop by storm winds or rockslides. Still, while there was a fair amount of mutinous muttering and shuffling, nobody actually spoke up - perhaps because of the imposing bulk of Maji, or just because they knew Inks still represented their best chance of getting out of the mountains alive. She had gotten them this far, after all.

And once the storm had run its course and blown itself out, the general mood seemed to improve, especially when they saw how much of a pounding the landscape around them had taken compared to the mere sprays and gusts that had wormed their way into the bunker. Inks let them get on with making camp in favour of Pipera, who was studying the southern horizon with a grim expression.

((Pipera rolls 4+3+1+1+2 stunt+3 ExD=14 on making a forecast for the next week, since she can only flawlessly and effortlessly do it for the day. 7 successes against Diff 4; [10 10 9 9 8 6 6 5 4 4 3 2 1 1].))

“That won’t be the last one,” she said quietly as Inks approached. Her eyes were narrowed, squinting into the gloomy distance. “Maela’s coils are- ah, something is pushing things north,” she corrected herself. “I think that was the worst storm we’ll see for the next week at least, but rain, wind... the sky is being squashed by whatever’s coming up from the south. It’s wringing the water from the air like a twisted rag.” She fell silent for a moment. “And it’s Calibration next week. The Dragons’ eyes will close on us. I have no idea what the weather will do then.”

\-- Inks --

Inks frowned for a moment, nodding contemplatively. “Well, we can’t go east or west to avoid the weather, and keeping ahead of the storm seems like our best bet.”

She called for Maji, giving him quiet, encouraging instructions in low tones while she scratched his ears. So ordered, the great tiger swaggered off, deceptively light on his paws despite the bulk. 

(Rolling Maji’s Wits+Surv to hunt some food. If there are goat trails, there are goats!. 9d +2 stunt)  
(Maji rolled 6 successes! 10 10 9 8 5 5 4 3 3 2 2)

Between navigation and fieldcraft, Inks made a point of pausing to improvise a camp and roaring fire halfway through. She faced the caravan group, grinning. “Okay so I really am terrible at speeches when I’m not trying to get laid. I’m just… not good at it yet!” She laughed, smiling.

“But!” She gestured to the spit roast goats turning over the flame- butchered by her own hand and seasoned to the best of her ability. “I’m definitely a better cook than orator, so dig in!”

(morale boosting stunt with cha+craft, 7d + 7d from excellency +2 stunt, +X tool bonus?)  
(Rolled 7 sux before tool bonus; 10 9 9 9 8 7 6 6 6 4 4 3 2 1 1 1; +2 sux from tools; 9 7 6; 9 total sux.]

Fortified by a hot and hearty meal, Inks lead the caravan onward, with an eye on the horizon and knowing that time was ticking down closer to calibration with every step. Even so, she took point on every hazard still, went back to tend to scrapes and wounds, and cooked in plain view of everyone.

(Int+Surv 10d +4 sux for Day 5, Stunt + Motivation bonus?)  
(Rolled 8+4 sux against Diff 5 -1exp, 10 10 9 9 9 9 6 4 3 2; threshold of 6!)

(Int+Surv 10d +4 sux for Day 6)  
(Rolled 7+4 against Diff 5 -1exp, Threshold of 5!)

\-- ST --

Pipera was right - the next two days consisted of rain; sporadic but constant from dawn to dusk and even through the night. There was no point in hunkering down and waiting it out, and so they pushed on through; ignoring the gusts and wind that made the carts creak, the rain that soaked everyone and everything even through waterproof jackets, the mud and slippery rock and run-off that formed streams down every angled flank of the hills and mountains...

It was a good thing that Inks was there. Her ingenuity gave them wheels that didn’t slip or skid; kept the inside of the wagons warmish and mostly dry, reinforced their clothes enough that their underthings were damp but not drenched. Her memory and intellect kept them on-track and pointed in the right direction, and the sunlamp on her forehead kept them together even when the mists came down and visibility plummeted.

((Perception+Socialise against MDV 7 to notice something about how Pipera’s handling things.))

\-- Inks --  
(8d+4 autosux, +1 auto from WP; rolled 3+5 for a total of 8, beating her MDV by 1)

\-- ST --

And it was Inks that was essentially keeping the caravan together single-handedly, because Pipera...

... Pipera was having a very quiet, very discreet breakdown, as far as Inks could tell. She wore the same expression of jaded, expressionless, ice-walled apathy she’d brought down when Inks had told the story of her tattoo; the one that had cut off any sympathy and jogged Inks into realising what the problem was, but now she wore it all the time; from the moment she stepped out of her private bed in the wagon to the moment she stepped back in. It seemed to be the only thing holding her together. It wasn’t anything Inks had done; she was at least confident of that. Pipera wasn’t freezing her out so much as the entirety of Creation.

She’d even seen her aide looking at the meagre stash of alcohol they’d brought along with them, and that was genuinely worrying, because Pipera usually wasn’t one for drinking. She could improve the quality and taste of any booze in her vicinity, but she viewed the skill as a sort of distasteful necessity for schmoozing with the decadent, and she rarely partook much herself. She hadn’t yet, either - Inks was subtly keeping track of what bottles they had, and none had been touched - but just the impulse to was not a good sign.

\-- Inks --

On the one hand, she did just want to out and ask. On the other hand, Pipera valued her privacy and the pretense of being circumspect- so Inks spent a few moments just observing. The icy facade Pipera presented made reading her directly a challenge, but how she acted around things was telling… What would be the best way to help her…

(Diagnoistic roll of per+invest/socialize; 5d+3d+3d from Artful Deduction Style +4 autosux. +2 stunt; Rolled 6+4 successes, 10 total)

\-- ST --

Carefully - very, very carefully - Inks kept an eye on Pipera as they travelled. As they made camp. When they stopped for breaks or paused to get around obstacles like rivers or narrow chasms.

And she was noticing things she hadn’t ever seen before. Was that because she hadn’t looked? Or because they were squashed into close quarters now and Pipera couldn’t get the space and privacy she usually did? Or because her emotional state was compromising her usual skill at hiding such things?

Whatever the reason, the main thing Inks was seeing were signs of Pipera’s faith - evidently not as abandoned as it appeared from the face she presented to the world. She recited little prayers under her breath when they crossed rivers or bridged chasms. She murmured mantras when the rains came, and when the wind blew strong and violent, and on those increasingly rare occasions when the sun shone steady and bright. Inks thought - via Maji quietly getting right up to the side of the wagon she stayed in - that she was holding little rituals in there, every time they stopped for the night, for up to an hour at a time.

Inks even managed to hear a few of them. Which... turned out not to help at all, because it was all in the liquid flowing syllables of what she vaguely recognised as Watertongue, but it helped confirm her guess!

((Int+Occult to analyse the bits and pieces of ritual and prayer Inks is observing that she doesn't understand because it's all in a different language. Diff 5, because... uh, it's all in a different language and she's only getting scraps.))

\-- Inks --

(Int+Occult 8 +4 sux; rolled 5+4, 9 sux total, Threshold 4!)

\-- ST --

And while she didn’t understand the words, the tone helped confirm her other guess. Because Pipera was fasting - and doing an admirable job of hiding it, though not a good enough one. She wore a series of knotted bracelets under her sleeves on both arms - dozens of them; enough that sometimes they slipped down to her wrists where they were visible. Through Maji’s senses, Inks could tell she sometimes smelt of tears. Once, very quietly, through the wall of her wagon, her tiger-partner heard a quiet run-on sentence of Watertongue in which every second or third word was “Ceae”.

That sounded like names.

And that meant Pipera was mourning.

\-- Inks --

Her first, instinctive thought was fix! It was almost a reflex now, and one Inks clamped down hard. She wracked her brain for an elegant approach- not a solution per se, because the human heart was not something to be toyed with recklessly.

In the end, Inks decided to wait and see- but she did her best to keep an eye on Pipera, to offer what unspoken or unstated support she could. If her mourning became too much to bear, Inks was prepared to intervene.

But on the seventh day, after trials, setbacks and frustration, everything seemed to click. The rough rocks, high passes, narrow valleys and untamed wilderness seemed to conspire to tell her just how to move. Riding astride Windroarer, she whistled, buoyed by Essence and her own greater mastery of the wild.

At her word, the caravan moved.

(Adopting Wait and See Approach w/ Pipera. Activating Trackless Region Navigation for 7m indefinite. Guaranteed 10 miles per day progress from this point on.)

\-- ST --

((What’s Inks’ policy on further storms - how will she respond if another one hits that’s into the territory of “dangerous to move through” rather than just “raining a lot”?))

\-- Inks --

(Bunker down with sorcery when needed.)

\-- ST --

The slow, arduous crawl forward; struggling hours for every mile, turned into a much easier rate of advance with Inks’ new sense of the land around her. No longer did she have to apply her full genius just to figuring out where they were going - they were covering ten miles a day with ease. And with the effortless pace and Pipera as a warning system, they were able to make their way to far more secure bunker-locations when the storms hit.

Over the course of the week that followed her epiphany, there were four more such storms - ones worth the name that were more than just showers of rain and the strong winds natural to mountaintops. Three of them were light enough that Inks’ sorcery-wrought shelter kept everyone warm and dry throughout; the thick stone walls drawn up beneath overhangs or in the uninhabited valleys they had to dip into in their up-and-down route. The fourth, mid-week and just a few days before the start of Calibration, had Pipera breaking her hollow-eyed composure to chivvy them all into a stronghold by mid-morning.

((Three storms that don’t need a roll to pass because RtEB keeps you all pretty much comfortable regardless, but one more monster of one that’s not quite as bad as the first, but still needs a Wits+Survival roll at Diff 3.))

\-- Inks --

(I’m kinda stumped on how to stunt these repeated rolls/intervals. Like, just saying anything at my usual standard gets a perfunctory +2. This isn’t bad, but I wonder if there’s a way to really dig into doing more with each roll/interval.)

(I have also borrowed Ajjim for this).

Ajjim may not have known the mountains and valleys as well as the deserts, but if anyone knew wilderness survival, it was him. The tiger-man had remained circumspect, wearing his customary hood and scarf to soften the fairly obvious god’s blood in his veins. Inks for her part had not demanded special treatment from her employees, but she did expect professionalism, despite her own wild, casual firebrand ways.

Even so, no amount of discretion kept his features a secret for long, but their employer’s handpicked group of loaders, riggers and so on were at least savvy enough to keep their misgivings to themselves, if any. At least about him. They’d long since talked about their employer, especially after her latest hare-brained scheme.

More than a week of ugly, sodden, foul travel. An obvious city-mouse trying to brave the sticks on a whim and some sun-blessed hint of inspiration. Ajjim didn’t doubt the woman, so much as her sense of risk.

That was yesterday. Today was wonder.

Even living nestled against a tall mountainside like Gem, Ajjim had not been prepared for the severe drops, twisting switchback roads, and treacherous, hardscrabble forests that clung to the mountainsides. The Coxati mountains were tall, shooting knife-like fingers into the sky and almost sculpted by some god of deep time to break wagons, turn ankles and humble even the mightiest heroes.

Hours apart, Inks would stop and cast about, looking for something in the damp, rocky and cold. The lands were by no means weak, bursting with life that a desert dweller like Ajjim could hardly recognize. But it was firmly not meant for man to tread upon. He approached Inks during one of those spells.

“That way.” She nodded at a thin shadow that crawled up the peak just ahead of them.

“That- M’lady.” Ajjim paused, frowning. “That’s a sheer face, do you expect us to winch the wagons over it?”

“Nah, there’s a way through there. We’re in business.”

And there was. Time and again, she found a way. Against all logic, she stared at pounding rivers, maze-like valleys and mossy forests all with the same unerring certainty. 

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Ajjim wouldn’t have believed it.

[* * *]

Experience had taught her several stern lessons in weather-warding designs. Gem simply did not get rain like this, and her experience with water back in Nexus was limited to the flooding and fetid Yellow, Yangze and Grey Rivers. 

To that end she raised flat and elevated foundations where she could- carved runoff channels into moats and off the path side. The stone that flowed up at her sorcerous call reached deep fingers into the mountain side, anchoring against the pounding rain. The roofs were the real secret though, shaped earth channeled the water into powerful gutters off the side and away from the less sturdy paths.

(As an idle thought, I’m not 100% sure how much scene detailing I should be including- like I know that these are mountain passes, so I imagine like, narrow flatish spaces cuddled up against the rock faces, but is there more to it than that? In any case-)

(Wits 2 + Surv 4 + 3 Autosux +2 stunt; Rolled 4+3, Threshold 7!)

\-- ST --

In the first six days, they’d covered barely twenty miles as Vahti flew - perhaps twice that, with all the detouring and climbing and descending they’d had to do. In the seven since Inks had awakened her senses to the land around her, they’d travelled seventy. And now, on the last day before Calibration, she woke to find Vahti already straddling her for a pleasant wake-up call.

There was, however, an ulterior motive.

“The men want to stop,” her fire-duck friend explained. “Pipera too - even Ajjim wants to use today for rituals and stuff. I don’t really get it, but apparently it’s important to tell the year ‘goodbye’ or something? And some of them are saying we should stay put over the whole of Calibration and the day after, and others are saying that staying up in the mountains in one place for all five days would be too dangerous. Maji’s been stopping them from fighting, but we could use a decision, boss.”

\-- Inks --

Reaching up to press wriggling fingers against Vahti’s middle, Inks let out a laugh and nodded before giving the shorter woman a playful shove off. Rising, she got dressed inside the wagon’s confines, accompanied by no small amount of fond flirtatious leering.

Breakfast was the first order of the day, and her own Calibration rituals were coming to mind- she’d been saving the tallow and fat from their camp meals for a reason- beyond good eating when properly prepared. Maji, in addition to being most excellent peacekeeper, had stalked out during the night for another fresh goat.

With the sun blocked by the high peaks, the valleys were in cool, damp shadow for most of the day, leaves, rock and moss sparkling with dew. When the cookfire was up and roaring, Inks urged everyone to join her for a caravan meeting.

“So Calibration’s upon us.” she nodded to everyone with a sunny smile. She catches both Ajjim and Pipera’s eye as she does so. “I’d like to get a feel for how everyone else has experienced it. Back in Nexus, it was a big business event more than anything. We put on feasts, ate sweet meats and broke out the good alcohol.”

There was grumbling at that, but she expected it. “Of course, it wasn’t all parties and wine. We honored our housegods, bathed every day and more. If you don’t know, Nexus is filthy, keeping clean longer than a day is something you give up on pretty quick.”

“Anyway- the point I’m trying to make is those are my rituals when the moon and sun go out. Before we make any decision to move or stay, I want to get an idea for how you all live through Calibration.”

(Inks is attempting an Investigation action to understand the local culture and hazards associated with Calibration. Is there a good reason to stay put, to move, to dance for 5 days straight, etc?)

(Per 5 + Invest 3 + 2 Style +2 stunt, +8 dice from 1st excellency… 20 dice gave me 8 sux; 10 9 9 9 8 7 7 6 6 5 4 4 4 3 2 2 1 1 1 1)

\-- ST --

There was a short pause. Then everyone was talking at once.

“Firecrackers,” one of the Gem merchants she brought along declared. “You scatter them all over and they keep away the bad spirits; a pinch of firedust in paper-”

“The beacon gets lit on Rankar Peak,” said another, “an’ the lamps, and you watch the east for things across the Scar-”

“Th’ mines are a death trap at the dark times,” opined one of the women from the metal-goods wagon. “They’ll be laying down bowls of blood for the ghosts today and blocking the entrances with salt-”

“Not just the miners, it’s bad luck to work!”

“Hammers go awry, shears’ll twist and cut you-”

“My uncle went gambling two years ago an’ lost every roll and hand-”

“Drink and eat nothin’ but salted food-”

“Give thanks to the dead god if you found any jewels...”

This last suggestion, from one of the envoys Inks’ farmer contact sent to look into a better supply deal, got a mix of jeers from the sceptical and angry shushing from the more superstitious members of the Gem crowd. A scuffle broke out, which Maji had to step in to stop, and Inks left her tiger-friend to sort it out in favour of more information-gathering.

The Coxati guides, by contrast, had somewhat different ideas. They were mostly from Etiyadi’s region, with one or two tagalongs from Xandia’s lands.

“It’s wrong to travel,” Inks was told in hushed voices. “We should make camp here and light the bonfires-”

“- salt circles, running water, lines of fire-”

“- stay within walls, within groups, keep the drums beating-”

“- trade gifts, ties to each other, let nobody stray off alone-”

“- honour Lord Tekutali-”

“- wait for the lord moon and lady sun to return-”

Pipera said nothing. Inks was watching, and it had looked like she was going to speak up - just once, immediately after Inks’ speech - but then she’d glanced around at the crowd and shut down again. Ajjim stepped up in her place.

“Listen, everyone!” he called out. “I know it’s bad luck to travel over Calibration. I know misfortune strikes more easily over the next few days. But we’re not in good territory here. If we try to light pyres and ward ourselves with salt, we’ll lose time - and we’ll be exposed and visible to whatever nightmares roam the mountains. We’ve been making ten miles a day for the past week, and Lady Inks is a sun herself; she can ward us while we’re travelling. Better to stay moving and hunker down each night than wear down our food supplies and make ourselves a sitting target. If we take today for the rituals to keep ourselves safe and then set out again, we can reach Moto’s capital and safety in time for the new year. It’s forty, maybe fifty miles; no more - and this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make dangerous journeys between one year and the next. It can be done.”

((Ajjim steps up and gives his opinion to try and mollify everyone and get them pointed in the right direction, rolling... 12 dice, with a Virtue channel included in that. And he rolls 6 successes, so people are generally halfish convinced.))

Nobody seemed happy about it, but there was a lot of nodding and mumbling that the fur-head had a point, staying up in the mountains during such a time of ill omens would make them vulnerable, and that at least if they were on the move they’d only have to contend with ill fortune they met on the road, rather than the kind that stuck around and learned how to get past the wards. Still, there was doubt remaining, and the whispering didn’t die down.

\-- Inks --

They could not perform every ritual, but there was enough material in most senses of the word to make a fair showing. Crafting candles by hand proved to be a neat trick for her crew- her hands glowed with golden sunfire, melting the fat, tallow and collected treesap into a fine and even mix. Wicks were improvised from moss and scrap thread.

Betting that they wouldn’t get the chance again, Inks sent Maji out to hunt once more, preparing to put on a feast day for the caravan that would see them through the passing of the year- and hopefully have them in leftovers for when hunger pangs struck.

As she built up the fire, Inks called Pipera over, handing her a cutting board and some vegetables as a pretense. “I’m always happy to listen- especially when it comes to something like this. Feel free to use the wind to whisper it.”

(Cajoling Pipera to say her piece about Calibration (though if she takes the statement as ‘Talk about anything’, Inks’ll be happy. Cha+Pres 14d; Rolled 6 against her MDV; drat)

\-- ST --

Pipera’s jaw tightened, and she looked around at the crowd again before shaking her head minutely. “This is a public place,” she murmured, and Inks heard her Seatongue accent slip through as she stressed the word. Something else cultural, maybe? Certainly, most of the more involved rituals Maji had overheard from her were in the private, locked part of the wagon she’d insisted on having to sleep in, and she had a habit of locking herself in her room back at the manor as well.

\-- Inks --

Inks sighed, speaking quietly. “I’m picking up on that, but I don’t understand. If you need privacy but want to tell me something, just ask to speak to me alone. If you want privacy flat out, just say so, so I don’t have to guess.”

“Sorry. I just… I like knowing why? It helps me keep things straight in my head.” She looked up and smiled as Maji returned with what looked like a low valley deer- venison!

She set about butchering it with all due speed and care, pensive while Pipera hovered nearby. “I can’t look at you and see your entire culture at a glance. I’d like you to tell me, but only because I just like you. I don’t have to be your employer every second of the day, but if that’s what you want, you’re the one who makes that call.”

(Cha+Pres, 14d; 14 sux; 10 10 10 10 9 9 8 8 8 7 4 3 2 2)

\-- ST --

Pipera was quiet for a while. A glance sideways told Inks that her Aspect markings had spread; the white peaks and sea-foam becoming more pronounced in her hair as little gusts and breezes tugging and pulled at her braids. She looked conflicted, and Inks was put in mind of seeing fierce, eddying winds from inside a building - the whipping movements of the air itself invisible, seen only by their effect on things around them.

She let Pipera work through it slowly and kept working on the venison. It was butchered, seasoned and roasting by the time her aide seemed to reach some internal tipping point and nodded slightly, motioning with her head as she retreated towards the wagon.

***

The space Pipera had claimed for herself was - generously - about the size of the bed Inks slept in back at the manor; and even that had been a hard-fought battle for space. It was a small compartment nestled between the goods storage and the front of one of the wagons, and the narrow partitioned space had just enough room for Pipera to lie full-length on the rolled-up mat shoved to one end, plus a few bags of personal effects.

But it had a door that locked and no windows, which Pipera apparently felt was sufficient. Inks followed her in, took a seat on the mat-roll as Pipera locked the door, and then listened attentively to a stream of Seatongue that was about as comprehensible as gibberish. She did catch “Maela” and “Danada”, though, and Pipera touched all four walls and the floor, so some sort of invocation of the Dragons was a fair guess.

Once she’d finished, Pipera turned back to her and settled down onto the floor. Silence reigned for a moment. She looked at a loss for words - and, Inks realised, that was more than she’d have been able to read from her an hour ago, or even five minutes ago. She’d dropped the icy mask and gone back to expressing again - at least as much as she ever did.

“So, this is private now,” Inks prompted.

Pipera nodded. Thought. Began.

“My people - the Kusaboin - were sailors,” she started. “Or... are... it’s complicated. I grew up on the Ceae fleet. If- I would have led it, someday. My mother was the fleet-captain.” Her fingers drummed. “We were traders. We cut no trees, gouged no ore from the land - we gave ourselves to the whims of the Air and Water Dragons, following the wind and waves, never staying on land for more than a few days. The Dragons are everything, and we are the children of Air and Water. This time of the year...”

She stopped, and restarted, her voice lilting in the repetition of something taught since childhood. “Calibration is when the Dragons close their eyes and rest - they are mighty, but they still need five days sleep in the year. The dark time is the break in their vigil; when men must do without their protection, relying only on their faith and their skill to survive. The Fire Dragon leaves the world so he doesn’t coil too close and burn it to ash, and after five days of slumber they wake again and the world is set to rights. We thank them before they fall asleep, and we thank them again when they wake, and between the two we stay faithful and vigilant.”

She paused again. Inks nodded encouragingly. Pipera started to speak again, paused again, and after several false starts managed to continue.

“On... when you live in a fleet like that...” She frowned, abandoning that tactic and restarting from a different angle. “You can’t... talk about private things in public. It’s not done. They’re not meant to be heard, or spoken of - they don’t happen.” She tugged on her hair, frustrated. “You say you want to know why, but you’re not... there are things that aren’t allowed.”

((Okay, roll a special Int+Investigation because Inks is a super-genius, where she’s basically reading between the lines and piecing together causes and cultural drives behind what Pipera is struggling to explain. Artful Deduction Style applies. Base Difficulty is 5 for a pretty good idea of what she’s getting at; threshold successes get moar info.))

\-- Inks --

Inks made a point to sit down on Pipera’s level, to not lord over her like an inquisitor. As she listened to the other woman, painting a picture of a nomadic fleet-trader’s life, she started to understand. 

Cloistered existence- a very direct and logical consequence to maintaining group cohesion. That in and of itself answered her initial question- more proved the theory she’d had for several weeks now, but…

The digression into the Kusaboin branch of the Immaculate Faith is fascinating, insofar as Inks’s own experience with the small monastery that eked out an existence in Gem despite all secular interests flaunting their contracts with patrons both major and minor. Alakananda herself was proof that gods and spirits walked among men in those streets, speaking as peers if not equals before profit.

At the simplest, Pipera’s entire culture promoted self-sufficiency and dare she think it- an unhealthy level of repression. Necessary repression, because conflict and drama in the fleet would hurt the entire group. There was no easy way to leave. 

Pipera’s words, the ones she chose with great care- even at her most unguarded, she was not letting things slip casually. Regarding Calibration specifically, Inks nodded, understanding. The idea of being on the ocean when the stars flicker and fade from day to day, to lose all sense of reckoning… She shivered, and recognized Pipera’s own skill and strength all the more.

(Per Invest 22 dice; 17 rolled successes; Threshold 12! 10 10 10 10 10 9 8 8 8 7 7 7 5 5 4 4 2 2 2 2 1 1)

\-- ST --

It was a fascinating social structure, once she’d pieced it together. Pipera’s people had taught themselves to almost pathologically compartmentalise between public life and private life. They’d had to. Living in close quarters for months on end; only ever staying on land for a few days at a time, that strong divide between personal space and the general living areas was necessary to stay sane. So if you heard your neighbours being intimate through the wall, or caught the end of a screaming match, you didn’t mention it and pretended it hadn’t happened; to preserve that privacy.

Which would mean; following that thought on, that... yeah, Inks supposed, the Kusaboin would come across as prudish and shuttered, because other people wouldn’t have the same distinction between private and public business. Pipera had often seemed warmer and more open and less inclined to complain or get offended at the manor - so when it was just her and Inks there, that was “private” space. And she insisted on her lockable rooms with windows that shut, for when she needed to relax. It didn’t matter if the walls were thin enough to hear through - or it shouldn’t, among her people - what mattered was the social privacy.

Hmm. That might be why she’d been annoyed at tattoos being displayed in public, too. And why ‘Nanda had found it so hard to get a look at the Kusaboin art styles, and why Pipera was wary about talking about her culture in general, and ohhhh. Lines came together in Inks’ head to form a picture, and the picture was shaped like a culture that had gone through severe persecution in the past. Probably the recent past - within the last few hundred years. Deep faith and spirituality, reliance on their powerful gods and views of them as being protective and benevolent but distant; check. Incredibly strong privacy taboos, deep mistrust of strangers, general culture of secrecy regarding rituals, identifying body-art and details about the culture; check. Nomadic people who never stay in one place for very long; check. Yeah, the Kusaboin had taken a real pounding from someone or something. The Immaculate Faith was a good contender, especially since ‘Nanda had mentioned their fortunes taking a sharp decline with the rise of the Realm Navy.

If that was the case - and Inks had no doubt on the persecution, and only a little on its source - it was probably on religious grounds. Pipera’s comments had confirmed what ‘Nanda had told her, about how the Kusabion believed that the world was literally made up of the stuff of the Dragons’ bodies; with the sun and moon as the eyes of the Fire and Water Dragons nestled in the Air Dragon’s coils. That fit with Calibration being the Dragons’ slumber in their eyes - their eyes close and so the sun and moon go out. And if they felt particularly close to the Air and Water Dragons...

... oh, huh. Another connection slotted into place in Inks’ head. ‘Cut no trees, gouge no ores from the land’... yeah, if the world was made up of the Dragons’ bodies, mining and logging and letting off great clouds of smoke while smelting and pouring industrial waste products into the River like Nighthammer did... that would all be harming the Dragons, wouldn’t it? Probably not much, given the scale of the world, but enough that they wouldn’t like doing it. No wonder the Kusaboin were traders. Travelling to and fro carrying trade goods was one of the few professions that wouldn’t involve any such exploitation at all.

And Pipera had lost her whole fleet. The fleet she was apparently set to inherit, which was something Inks was going to have to come back to and think more about later, but more importantly; the fleet comprised of her full extended family. She hadn’t said how it had happened, but it didn’t really matter - take a girl from a culture of strict compartmentalisation and secrecy, traumatise her and remove all of the people she’s culturally allowed to share things with in the same stroke, and there are going to be repression issues. No wonder - if Inks was correctly reading those glances at the alcohol bottles and Pipera’s usual disdain for that area of her abilities - no wonder she’d resorted to heavy drinking in the first few years afterward.

So where did this leave them? Inks wasn’t Kusaboin, and never would be. She didn’t share Pipera’s faith, which she obviously still clung to a lot more closely than she pretended in public. But Pipera was sharing with her; to the limits of her ability and within the constraints that privacy allowed. If Inks were to guess... she was somewhere within the “private” sphere, but not one of the Kusaboin themselves. It was probably closer than ‘Nanda had managed to get - her mentor would have given up in frustration before cultivating a relationship this far - and Pipera was willing to open up when they were alone, but there would probably be some things she’d never share.

\-- Inks --

The sounds outside the wagon were surprisingly merry- Ajjim or maybe Vahti had taken over finishing the first meal, and the crew were happy to indulge before the leaner, meaner times. Inks for her part kept her eyes on Pipera, watching the woman attempt to close in on herself and relax at the same time.

Her gut reaction was special considerations- doing something to make Pipera’s life easie… but anything she attempted would likely feel patronizing.

Smiling thinly, Inks pulled her the sleeve of her armored jacket to show her namesake. “You didn’t much care for the story of how I got this, but I think I understand you a bit better now.” 

Exhaling, Inks’s smile grew a bit wider, but sadder too. “I didn’t have privacy back in Nexus. I existed at the whims of my parents and my sisters. I was chattel, a bargaining chip to marry off and pump out heirs for whatever petty crime lord my parents thought would be a good match.”

“I didn’t have private spaces or anything- the only thing I could truly call my own was my intelligence, my… sense of being in the face of their small-minded scheming. I couldn’t even choose to do anything with my body until I broke ties with them.”

At Pipera’s dry look, Inks laughed. “Yes, I did get some experience, as you say. There was this one blacksmith… Mmph!” She grinned. “But seriously, I was never allowed to be anything but their daughter. They denied me education until I found my mentor, and all that.”

“The point is… I’m just so… out there and up front about things because I’m choosing to be. I don’t have to hide things anymore, or myself. Beyond y’know, practical considerations like assassins in the night and whatnot.”

“Anyway... “ Inks trailed off, but she let her body language speak for her. Her arms were open, but not blatantly so. The message was clear if nothing else - ‘I’m here, if you need me’.

(Cha+Pres to offer a silent gesture of support/hug, channeling Compassion because this is a Compassion scene. 18d rolled for 12 successes! 10 10 9 9 9 9 8 8 7 7 6 5 5 5 4 3 2 2 )

\-- ST --

((3-die stunt because you just managed to beautifully reframe that tattoo story in a way that might get through to her now that she’s in a more emotionally open position. Let’s see...))

Slowly and haltingly, Pipera shifted over and leaned into Inks’ shoulder; her breathing a little unsteady. It wasn’t a full embrace - but it was more than just an incidental contact. She stayed there for a few moments, trembling slightly, before settling.

“Alakananda,” she said; each syllable clipped, precise and memorised. “The one who...” she paused, choosing her words carefully, and tilted her head to motion at Inks’ body in general with her chin. “... gave you this. She was a dragon of water, you said. A child of Danada. A teacher, a benevolent spirit, and... wise?”

\-- Inks --

The laugh bubbled up from inside without meaning, even as Inks let Pipera settle in more comfortably. “Ahaha… oh… Uhm…”

“Well, she was pretty earthy for a dragon of water?” Inks admitted, smiling. “That is to say I picked up a lot from her… but I don’t think I’ve ever had a better mentor than her. She’s… ‘Nanda was basically my first proper friend. She didn’t put on airs about being a dragon.”

From there Inks started to paint a picture with words of Alakananda, Dragon of Water. Tall, usually appearing as a bald woman with skin a bit more on the blue side than normal for a person- and robes that were always clinging wet. “She’s an artist, first and foremost, but she helped put me on the path to Sorcery and helped me… stay me when I was Chosen.”

“She taught me with riddles, asking questions, and rational, logical thought. Pounding logic, like how water can wear down rock over the years…” Inks smiled, reminiscing. “She taught me how to think, not just facts and figures.”

“So I try to pay her lessons forward, and I try not to do what my family did to me.”

\-- ST --

Pipera considered this for a while, still leaning into the warmth of Inks’ side.

Then, very deliberately, she raised her right arm and pulled back the sleeve.

The motion took Inks by surprise enough that the fabric was up past her elbow before Inks’ eyes kicked in. On the inside curve of Pipera’s elbow was a beautifully stylised lizard pattern the size of her hand, done in black and white inks that stood out against Pipera’s tanned brown skin. It had obviously been done by hand with tremendous skill, and a repeating pattern of arrowheads extended down from the end of its curved tail to the inside of Pipera’s wrist in the same black and white style.

“The shaman gave me this when I was sixteen,” Pipera said, while Inks’ mind spun around the stylisation and drew hypothetical links to the aniconic policies of the Immaculate Faith. “Our ship was becalmed by an ocean spirit, and when he treated with it I managed to write up a contract it was willing to sign that bade it leave us be - all the Kusaboin ships who flew our colours or bore our sacred art.” She tapped the lizard. “It’s a deed-mark. It tells the Dragons and the spirits of what I did that day; of my skill and creativity and how I made something that bridged our world and the spirits’. Only the shamans can grant deed-marks; they know the spirits and judge what the spirits should know.”

She looked Inks up and down. “... I’m not a shaman,” she added, slumping a little. “I was going to be fleet-captain, or maybe trade-chief. I don’t know what deeds are worthy of the spirits’ knowledge, and maybe there’s something that lets you have a mark for a deed done by getting it, and for surviving what came after.” She frowned. “Though it seems improper to do it that way. And it’s bigger than it should be for one deed.”

Her lips pursed. “But a child of Danada gave it, and the story you told me - breaking ties like that, and gaining knowledge, and surviving what should have killed you... that feels worthy of a mark. To me.” Wavering briefly, she finished with a nod. “It may not have been done as my people would have done it, but I can’t ask them. So I’ll... I’ll acknowledge it as valid.”

\-- Inks --

Pouring over the intricate linework, the care and prowess that went into it, Inks could see language. Syntax and grammar, a symbolic logic that was hardly fit for mortal thoughts, but clearly meant something to whole hosts of gods. She did not pry or ask- though she wanted to, but that look was enough to help her draw some conclusions.

As for Pipera, the halting cultural adoption felt backhanded, but in that chagrined, unintentional sort of way that Inks was sure she didn’t mean. Neither of them were fit to comment on the intricacies of each other’s culture, after all. That niggling feeling was happily overwhelmed by the great flush of success and closeness.

They sat together for a while longer, until Pipera’s almost imperceptible trembling subsided. Not long after, they sat up on some unspoken cue. The look on Pipera’s face was cool and composed- but lacked that jaded, distant detachment that had become so familiar. 

Pausing before the door, Inks grinned over her shoulder. “So we’re going to travel fifty miles in five days. It’s Calibration, and I am going to be the sun. This’ll be a great story.”

***

\-- ST --

For the full day before Calibration - the twenty eighth of Descending Fire; Yearsend, Lasday - Inks’ convoy remained in place on a perilous mountaintop at the edge of the world. Thick candles burnt around the perimeter of their camp; brighter and cleaner than any tallow shaped by mortal hands. The men and women within the ring clustered around a bonfire and ate a rich and hearty meal; salting the leftovers and painting their brows with ash. They bid goodbye to the sun and moon and stars, prayed to their gods to see them through the dark times ahead, and performed what little rituals they could to ward off ill fortune and keep away bad spirits while the protections of the heavens lapsed.

\-- Inks --

In a very practical sense, Inks’s insistence on cooking most meals during the trip was both pragmatic and instructive- she wanted to get her hands dirty. To get used to the idea of doing things by hand, buoyed by magic or not. 

The candles were her primary contribution, hand-crafted and set by geometric and geomantic principles that were flattering to the spirits and warding against ill omens. Her experience with prayer had always been through intermediaries- hired priests and shamans, as opposed to being any particular observer herself.

But she was a Sorcerer, and knew the ways of man and god better than most. The preserved thigh bones of their kills, wrapped in fat and marrow were burned while Ajjim lead the prayers. She drafted a memorandum, primarily to the gods of wealth and prosperity that she knew in Nexus, to some of even the old totem spirits of her distant ancestors. She asked for grace and efficiency in the management of her affairs in the eyes of Heaven, and cast the document into the campfire.

\-- ST --

Afternoon moved into evening. Evening moved into dusk.

The sun dipped towards the western horizon - higher here due to the rising expanses of the Firepeaks between them and the sea. The burning golden disc slipped behind the mountains, and all fell into shadow. But it hadn’t yet set. Inks could feel its rays, behind the miles of solid stone. Above her; revealed by the darkening sky and the shadow of the mountains, the stars glimmered faintly across the vault of the heavens.

The waning half-felt light grew smaller, more distant, dimmer. And finally, somewhere far, far out in the western ocean, it touched the edge of the world.

Twilight. Inks felt it in her bones. The sun was setting, and as it did, the stars dimmed. No moon rose to replace it above them. The melody of the world fell to a hushed whisper.

The last of the sun vanished, and five days of darkness began.

\-- Inks --

She had to pace herself, but there was no question as to her success. Eschewing the buff jacket for the moment, Inks emerged from her wagon dressed in deceptively robust finery, a proud traveling dress that used every hem and line to declare that she reigned supreme.

Maji rumbled at her side, proud and massive, ready to shoulder aside any obstacle. Taking the lead at the front of the caravan, Inks looked up at the fading, murky sky and exhaled. When she drew breath, the mark upon her brow flared out.

Light spilled off her form, fast and warm enough to summon a gentle breeze that sent her skirt swaying, tossing her hair in it’s customary bun. Lit out to a spearcast’s distance, Inks nodded and pointed at the craggy horizon. “Onward!”

(Trackless Region Navigation, morale/guidance stunt; 8 successe; 10 10 9 8 7 7 5 5 3 3)

\-- ST --

A rousing cheer went up behind her and the group surged in her wake; eager to stay near the warm radiance of the sun. Keeping close, and with wagons festooned with candles, the little group marched on with the same uncanny knowledge of the valleys and by-ways as it had been showing for the past week.

The day was tense, tiring and tedious, but for all the fears of Calibration held by the locals, it was honestly sort of unexceptional. The darkness made navigating a little more annoying in planning out routes in the distance, and holding her soul unveiled for so long was tiring in ways that made Inks ache in immaterial muscles she didn’t even know she had, but no demons jumped out of the air and tried to eat them, and there weren’t any cases of sudden horrific misfortune.

Well, apart from the various people near the back of the crowd who tripped over rocks. But that was less bad-luck-gremlins and more it-being-dark. None of them were more than embarrassed about it - and honestly, most were more humiliated by the ribald suggestions of what they’d been watching instead of the ground, as their sun-blessed beautiful leader strode ahead with a sway to her hips or rode majestically atop Windroarer.

She slept deeply that night; the camp ringed by fire again and Maji a protective presence by her side. He’d apparently decided not to let her out of his sight even once for the entire five days, possibly under the impression that something terrible might happen to her if he did. Again. And he’d just been starting to forget about Hinna, too!

On the second day, Pipera woke her.

“There’s going to be another storm tonight,” she said. “Well, what would be tonight. Something’s off about it. I think this might be related to whatever was pushing those other storms forward.”

\-- Inks --

Rising blearily, Inks nodded. “I don’t think we can change the plan. We risk moving or staying, so let’s keep moving. Any suggestions though?”

\-- ST --

Pipera shook her head. “I don’t know enough,” she said, frustrated. “It’s been too long since I had to read the weather in-depth; I’m out of practice.” She frowned, settling back in Inks’ small quarters and shifting around Maji’s tail. “Travel out the day. It won’t get here until late evening. And maybe see if we can find a valley or somewhere sheltered. I have a bad feeling about this.”

\-- Inks --

“Good enough- She yawned, stretched, and reached down to tickle Vahti’s bare back right along the spine. The Flame Duck was a dedicated assistant in getting her to relax after a hard day’s work.

Dressing, she set out, arranging a quick breakfast and getting everyone moving quick and easy. Essence bolstered her directives, and the camp was broken down in record time before she ushered everyone into motion. “We’re heading onward, trying to beat a storm. Let’s get to it!”

Leading the way once more, casting light out from every curve and gesture, Inks guided the caravan- eyes sharp for shelter or something she could raise a bunker against.

The air felt increasingly… wet, but that wasn’t the right word. Like it was trying to rain but no drops were falling. The wind was picking up, chaotic, kicking into insistent whorls and devrishes that called up columns of road dust, leaf litter and scrabble moss. She checked with a glance- hardly ill omens, beyond the obvious sign of the coming storm.

They made good time though, ten miles in a day, and a new valley nestled between three peaks spread out before them.

\-- ST --

((Perception+Awareness for signs of the storm, Diff 2. Pipera and Maji give +3 assistant bonus. Vahti can also give you a tool bonus by flying up and having a look from a higher vantage point - it’s your choice as to how far up and away from the group Inks lets her go.))

\-- Inks --

Vahti was the one to suggest that she fly up and take a look around, but Inks quietly vetoed that on grounds of it being her first Calibration. As it stood, they had more than enough to go on to make a judgement.

Standing atop one of the wagons, Inks turned her face to the air and let the world speak to her. Her eyes tracked through the darkness, borrowing insight she’d learned from Maji’s own nocturnal prowling. Slowly turning, she took in everything, eying the cliff faces, the distant peaks and thin ribbons of trees that clung to the fertile valley floor. Rivers and streams sparkled at the edges of her vision, reflecting what little starlight there was.

(Per 5 Awa 2 +2 style +1 perk +3 Assistance + 7 1st excellency; 20d total. Rolled 10 sux! 10 10 9 9 9 8 7 7 6 6 5 4 4 3 2 2 2 1 1 1) 

\-- ST --

The world wasn’t speaking. It was screaming. That she could see the clouds on the horizon at all was a warning sign - a hundred miles away was well past her light and should have been invisible, but faint phosphorescence flickered through the swelling storm that chased them. The hair-thin flashes of lightning she could make out at the very edges of her vision were blood red and branched like trees more than anything born of the sky. The swells of cloud were wind-whipped waves; acting in defiance of the shapes that pleased the storm elementals.

And then there were other things. What plants were nearby oozed reddish sap that tasted salty when Inks brought a bead of it to her tongue. Blood. The sound of dripping water lagged behind the droplets off the still-wet heights by a second or so too long, and worried murmurs came from the cooking fire as water refused to boil no matter how long they heated it for.

Closing her eyes with sick dread, Inks chose a largeish crevice in the ground - not quite wide enough to fit a hand in, but enough to shelter insects and a niche for weeds - and approached it. As the sunlight aura around her fell into the narrow space, she heard chittering and scrabbling for a second, only to find it empty when she peered down.

Minor omens, unnatural happenings, the Things That Lived In Corners gathering... these weren’t the mild, unusual and creepy signs of Calibration. This was linked to what was approaching. This was something big.

It was Pipera who put words to it, though, beating Inks by just a few seconds.

“Wyldstorm,” she whispered, face pale.

((So. There’s a wyldstorm on the way. A whopper of one, given that Inks is seeing minor omens heralding it when it’s still a hundred miles out. Inks has several hours advance warning to prepare before it catches up to them. Roll Wits+(lower of Occult and Survival) to make preparations that will reduce the Difficulties the storm throws at you. She’s also hitting the point of fatigue, so she can either choose to have a quick nap that’ll restore her an hour or two of strenuous effort, or make a second Wits+(lower of Occult and Survival) roll to lay in more preparations and... uh, probably pass out once it’s over. Or halfway through, if she’s unlucky.))

\-- Inks --

Wyld conjured up images of Firewander, of the infrequent but no less awesome appearances of some creature or being from that blighted neighborhood. Firewander, however, was downright civil compared to what was coming for them.

“Iron.” She hopped off the wagon and started casting about for the suddenly precious metal. She poured over the cargo, the wagons themselves. Pockets were turned out, and Ajjim was again the hero of the day, not only having a double-handful of beaten iron nails, but a lucky jade obol on a worn leather cord.

It was a start.

If not iron, then gold. She put the word out, and the caravan went to it with a will. Inks had Pipera make a careful accounting of their resources, because if they survived, she was hoping to rebuild what she used to keep them alive.

“Iron for protection, gold for warding…. The sun isn’t here but I am!” She pulled apart her own jewelry, pressing gold into small tokens of the Unconquered Sun and her own caste mark. Beyond those warding talismans came the craft of the wild, supplemented by the Coxati guides and Ajjim’s expert experience.

The preparations seemed to go on forever, compacted as they were into such a short amount of hurry-up and wait. Talismans were made, meals scarfed down, and the wagons arranged in a ring to ward away both weather and wyld.

Her last preparation was to Raise the Earth’s Bones. It would not do to just have a hard wall between them and the storm- it had to be a wall of stability. To this she called on Pipera, taking her aside in one of the wagons to outline an invocation to the dragon of the earth. “We can do something now or we can do something perfect- I’d rather do something now!”

With the bunker raised and provisioned, all the caravan crew could do next was wait.   
(Okay, using Holy Goldsmith Style to improvise some talismans out of gold jewelry and other bling; Then RtEB to build a bunker using an improvised architectural invocation of the Dragon of Earth via Pipera’s description. After that Inks will rest- sleep or not, in case they need her to kick up to full blast again.)

\-- ST --

((3-die stunt, +2 tool bonus from the talismans - nice idea and good invocation of the Style.))

\-- Inks --

(I am assuming no roll for crafting; wits 2, Occult 3, +5d 1st excellency, +3d stunt, +2d tools, +5 Conviction (4th channel of 5), 20d total. 9 sux on 20d! 10 10 10 8 8 7 6 6 5 5 4 4 3 3 3 3 1 1 1 1)

\-- ST --

((And with that success ratio, Inks has in fact cancelled out the entire -5 external penalty imposed by the harsh terrain, unprotected locale and storm severity, leaving her with just the base Difficulties. So, what’s going to happen here is that it’s a three-stage roll as the storm rolls over her. Inks will get to try and work out what the danger is with Perception+Occult, and then roll to counteract or guard against it, with failure progressively damaging the protections and chipping away at her group in whatever way is appropriate to the hazard. So!))

Had she thought that yesterday had been tense, walking along through the dark and gloom as people looked fearfully at the shadows? Hah. How innocent she’d been, those whole thirty-something hours ago. This was tense, watching and waiting as the mother of all wyldstorms rolled closer. Vahti was pale and shaking. Ajjim’s fingers were white-knuckled on a staff that would be useless. Pesala was trying to cover both sets of ears and whimpering. Maji’s growl was a low rumble that only stopped when he needed to breathe, and his claws tore furrows in the stone floor. Every enlightened soul in their shelter could feel the instability and chaos of the contaminated storm as it approached.

The closer it got, the worse things became. At one point, a cry went up as the salted meat they’d packed was found to be swarming with flies - which turned back into scraps of meat when the panicked men swatted at them. Strange colours lit the sky in every colour of the rainbow, looping and swirling ahead of the storm’s leading edge. A short shower of ants left a black carpet of crawling things covering the ground outside their fortification, which decayed into wisps of steam before dissipating altogether. Through one of the view-gaps in the bunker, Inks saw a body that was little more than bone and scraps unearth itself and stumble backwards jerkily, then proceed forward as though it were still alive - only to be struck by a phantasmal arrow and fall into the hole it had climbed from, then repeat the whole process again.

And then the true storm hit, and the screaming and wailing began.

((Inks’ bunker is easily strong enough to survive the initial winds and rain without a roll. But the winds aren’t just beating at the outside of the stone walls. Perception+Occult at Diff 4 to identify the threat.))

\-- Inks --

No matter how dire, a Wyldstorm followed some coherent logic- it was as much Creation as the howling chaos outside the world. She forced herself to look, to understand. Dead things, rot, campfire stories… Ill-omens that all seemed so perfectly timed with the fears and worries of her caravan itself.

(Stunted, per 5 Occult 3 + 8d, +2 stunt, 18d total against Diff 4. 11 successes! 10 9 9 9 9 8 8 8 7 7 4 3 3 3 2 2 2 1)

\-- ST --

There were voices on the wind, and they were mad. They wailed and laughed and screamed and cried; warped and distorted noises that barely formed words - but to anyone that listened, and listened hard, they would be audible; they would sharpen and clarify and form words and mantras of fear and madness and terror and insanity. Inks heard them start to resolve and jammed her fingers in her ears before her lightning-quick mind could piece together any more of them; understanding in an instant what they would do to anyone whose fascination drew them in. These were not sounds that men should listen to.

((The sounds carried by the winds are a mental hazard that will inflict derangements on anyone who gets sucked into trying to decipher what they’re saying and passes the rolls to hear through the distortion - Inks thinks they might also be seductive, so passing the first few easy ones will compel people to keep listening once they start. Not many in this superstitious region will try to decipher them, but those who have nothing else to listen to stand a worrying chance of ending up with a derangement or two from this hazard. Probably fear-linked ones, as she’s noted, though the Wyld is never quite predictable even at the best of times, so others are possible.))

\-- Inks --

Rising, Inks tapped into her Exaltation once more, only opening a smaller window into her greater souls. Her caste mark flared out, bright in the cloying inky darkness that reached inside the bunker.

She paced the interior border, walking along the walls minute by minute, whispering the mantra of privacy and discretion that so finely secured the space against unwanted intrusion- the crew knew well enough now that Sorcery brooked no distractions, but the storm handled that and then some.

(Wits 2 Occult 3,+3 stunt; no tool bonus, no charms due to sorcery distraction mechanics. I gotta roll this 6 times at Diff 1, no penalties.)

Roll 1: 6 sux 10 10 9 8 5 4 3 2  
Roll 2: 2 sux 10 5 5 5 3 3 3 1  
Roll 3: 3 sux 10 8 6 5 4 3 2 1  
Roll 4: 5 sux 10 10 7 5 3 2 2 2  
Roll 5: 2 sux 9 8 6 6 6 5 5 1  
Roll 6: 6 sux 10 10 8 8 5 4 4 3

The warding snapped into being with a muted whisper and crackle- and suddenly the dire, wailing moans were muffled. Inks let out the breath she’d been holding and smiled. She set the warding against hearing, leaving sight, smell and so on alone for the moment. Maji perked up, curious as the sudden lack of hostile noise, and gave his mistress an approving chuf.

As a whole, the crew’s spirits seemed to rise in the face of the sudden lessening of dire portents, and Inks grinned.

(20m +2wp to cast Private Plaza of Downcast Eyes, closing off Hearing alone + scrying/teleportation, am sitting at the +2m anima level for the moment.)

\-- ST --

Outside, the winds howled and screamed their maddening messages. Dancing lights the colour of an oilslick slewed across the sky, and blood-red lightning forked like tree branches - complete with leaves. The elements were confused; clouds taking on the appearance of waves, lightning looking like plants, the looming shapes of the mountains wavering like flames in the distance.

But safely tucked in their bunker, behind solid stone walls and circles of warding talismans and a palisade of wagons and a ring of candles, the men and women and child of Inks’ caravan were sheltered from the crazed nightmare that had clawed its way up from the south. Whatever others in the region were suffering right now; they themselves were safe.

For a while, it seemed as though that was the worst the storm had to offer.

((An hour or so passes - Inks is approaching the edge of exhaustion again but not quite there yet.))

Then the entire bunker shook as something slammed into the ceiling and sent dust and fragments showering down on everyone, drawing a rousing chorus of screams.

((Once again, it’s time to play What The Fuck Was That; Inks Edition. Something just hit the roof; hard. Per+Awa at Diff 3, -2 external penalty from the limited view that she can negate by going outside (this may not be wise given that something just hit the stone bunker hard enough to send fragments falling off the ceiling).))

\-- Inks --

After making sure no one was hurt by the falling debris, Inks hoisted herself up, drawing Chronicle from nothing like a conjurer's trick. The shining golden blade seemed to glow all the brighter in the gloom, but she did not go outside, not yet. Through the thin arrow slits- more dart slits for Pipera than anything, Inks peered outwards, eyes peeled and ears perked. 

Maji budged up beside her, his own ears swivelling like sentries, keen to find something tangible to maul.

(Per+Aware, 5+1, +2 stunt, Invoking Maji’s senses as well for +2; 6m on 2nd excellency for 3 autosux. 10d total. Rolled 2 sux + 3 auto, 5 total. -2 External Penalty drops me down to threshold zero, so Inks succeeds by 0).

\-- ST --

Through Maji’s ears, she heard the faintest sounds of what was happening outside. That she could hear them at all was enough to tell her the first detail: the storm had worsened. This wasn’t the leading edge anymore; they were in the thick of the storm, taking the brunt of its fury. The wailing of the wind must now be a deafening howl to those outside, and it was ripping boulders from the heights and casting them down on the-

Flash. Inks blinked spots from her vision. Okay, wonderful, and to make matters worse; the blood-tinged bolts that couldn’t decide if they were air or wood or fire were hitting the ground now! There was a large, fading sunspot occupying the centre of her field of vision, but she thought that one had hit a tree and... well, the tree wasn’t there anymore. It might have turned the entire thing into a tree-shaped structure of liquid blood that had collapsed, if that hadn’t just been the red light of the bolt tinting everything the same colour. Or maybe exchanged its position from the bottom of the bolt to the top.

Either way, it was probably not a good idea to get hit by one.

((The bunker is taking a pounding from the storm worsening and hurling things around like a child having a tantrum and also hitting the occasional random object with Wyld-lightning that... well, Inks isn’t quite sure what it’s doing, but it’s not survivable, that’s for sure. Dex+Craft roll to keep the bunker intact; Diff 5 with a -3 external penalty for trying to do it just from the inside if she’s boring and sensible and sane and cares about silly things like “not being picked up and flung around like a rag doll or hit by chaos lightning”.))

\-- Inks --

Bodies or beams, Inks could mend them all. Using Maji as a boost, she reached up to run her hands against the flagging columns and cracks in the roof, ignoring the way the bloody stone-grit clung to her arms and palms. She growled, and Maji mirrored her roar of effort, bolstering the structure from within.

“C-Could use some help, ladies and gentlemen!”

The call to action was enough, and they leapt to her side. Ajjim and Pesala pulled through their supplies, lashing together scaffolds that held the roof up. The caravan crew handed her rags, eager to keep her limbs clean as well as their own. They cast the bloody scraps into the fire, washing with hot water steeped with mint leaves.

Through each pounding impact, Inks pressed herself against the damage, holding the structure up with grace and skill despite the odds!

(Crack Mending Technique, waives need for repair materials, invoking crew for bonus dice; dex 2, craft 5, +7d 1st excellency, +2 stunt, +1 aide/tool bonus. 17d total; Rolled 12 sux -3 from penalty, leaving me 9, Threshold 4! 10 10 10 9 9 9 8 8 8 5 4 3 3 3 3 2 1 )

\-- ST --

None of the lightning bolts hit the bunker. Inks was very, very thankful for that. Maybe they’d been kept away by the talismans and wards, or maybe it was just a breath of fortune, but if part of the roof had been turned into blood or sucked up into the clouds or suddenly made as fragile and rigid as paper, she wasn’t sure she could have kept everyone safe.

As it was, the bunker had held. The wagons had some paint chipped but were as functional as ever; nobody was hurt, and while there were some thin cracks in the ceiling around the edges of the room that water was dripping through; none of them compromised the integrity of the shelter and all were outside the talismans and the wagon-circle.

Exhaustion was starting to bite, though. She’d been at the edge a few hours ago, before the storm hit. Now she was past it; the ache of her muscles and the strain of her soul fogging her mind and slowing her movements. She hurt, and it was affecting her ability to keep her people safe.

((This stage of the storm lasted another hour and a half, and Inks is now at -1 fatigue penalty.))

She thought - hoped, prayed - that it was over now; that the worst had come and gone. And perhaps the worst of the fury had. But there was at least one more trick left up its sleeve.

The first sign was the stench. It rolled in through the dart-slit windows; slowed but not stopped by the talismans, rousing protests and coughs and groans from the scared, unhappy and in most cases equally exhausted members of the convoy. Maji sank to the floor, put both paws over his nose and whimpered. Pesala went the more practical route and improvised a peg to hold her nose shut, dousing a rush mat in perfume and holding it up to her face to breathe through.

The second and rather more worrying sign was when blood started trickling through the dart-slit windows and the hairline cracks in the ceiling, forming foul puddles on the floor. When Inks cautiously peeked through the window, a shudder ran through her at the source. Carrion. Bodies and blood were falling from the sky instead of rain - rats, squirrels, small birds, lizards. There was no sense or logic to them - Inks saw animals from all five Directions; all small rotting bodies that fell in short showers, piling up in mounds on the ground. Some putrefied further into blood or fell apart into water, but others stayed.

((Perception+(lower of Occult and Medicine) for this one. More information can be determined with one of those carcasses, if Inks can bring herself to go and get one and then examine it.))

\-- Inks --

If she were fresh and at her peak of health, with just Maji and maybe Pipera to back her up, she mgiht’ve braved the storm for a sample. Today though, with a crew a dozen depending on her, a child and her father, all of that stayed her hand- but that was fine. She was a genius.

Vahti however was carrying the day when she couldn’t. The flame duck was diving hard into using and mastering her authority over flames to keep the campfire roaring hot and healthy. The Essence of fire itself was hers to command, imperfect and inexperienced as it was, and few things beyond the Sun were more purifying and vital to a healthy existence.

The flames kept their morale up, leaving Inks to assess the storm one more time. By sheer force of will, she kept her mind and senses clear, despite the rot and filth.

(Per+Occult, 8d, +8d, +2 stunt, -1 fatigue. 17d total, still at 2m anima flaring. I think after this I’m tapped out until I regen up some more. Rolled 7! 10 10 9 8 7 6 6 6 6 6 6 5 4 4 3 1 1)

\-- ST --

It was the blood, Inks decided woozily, shaking off the exhaustion as best she could to make a diagnosis. Something was wrong with the blood. The foul sense of rot and the disgusting smell that rolled off it... there was sickness in this blood. Drinking it, or anything befouled by it, would expose the drinker to whatever pathogen it carried. Maybe even just touching enough of it; being exposed to the rain for too long. It might be for the best that she hadn’t risked a trip outside - though without a body to pick apart she couldn’t diagnose what the disease it held was.

She wasn’t sure if she was hoping all the bodies vanished by the end of the storm and got rid of the carcasses - which would certainly be an infection vector as well - or that some would linger to give her an idea of what she was dealing with. One thing was for sure - this rain of befouled blood and stinking carrion had fallen on a whole region. Rivers, streams, livestock, crop fields, cities.

The word “epidemic” came uncomfortably to mind, and bared its teeth.

((Some of the blood is puddling in the corners of the room, but because you succeeded well on the second stage it’s not pouring in and drenching everyone through big holes in the ceiling. Still probably not a good idea to leave it there, though. And long-term, this is a lot more concerning than the derangements that most people won’t listen very hard to or the damage that can be rebuilt and repaired.))

\-- Inks --

Torches were improvised at her order, and water was put to boil- they were depleting their reserves, but safe, potable water was not Inks’ long term concern. Stones were heated to boil more water in whatever pots and urns they could spare, and they carefully poured the steaming stuff on the blood- but only after carving shallow trenches and runnoff that led outside as best as they could manage.

Drowsy, aching and tired, Inks spent most of that time sitting, directing and advising more than digging her hands in. Her pulse pounded in her temples, and Vahti reached down to sink supernaturally warm hands into Inks’ neck, kneading softly.

If they were lucky, this was the last beat of the storm…

\-- ST --

And it seemed, indeed, that luck was finally granted to them. The carrion-rain tapered off, and the storm seemed to be dying out - or passing over them, perhaps; continuing its way northward as the chaos-taint slowly bled out of it and it was crushed back down into a normal, terrible thunderstorm. How many miles that would take, Inks didn’t know and was too tired to work out.

\-- Inks --

Even if she didn’t want to, sleep was coming. It wasn’t yawning, cute, endearing sleep, no. It was the haggard, drawn, and unapologetically ugly exhasution that tireless laborers and thankless toil experienced. Nevermind that she probably only looked slightly out of it, with baggy eyes and a suggish slump to her shoulders.

“Mmmm. Vahti, Pipera. I’m.. gonna check out for an hour…. Wake me if you need me. Maaaji? If something comes in here you don’t like, kill it.”

\-- ST --

Maji rumbled agreement, and settled his bulk directly over her as she lay down; legs half-bent to shield her from view without squashing her. He was crouched at just the right height that the fur of his underbelly settled on her like a blanket; keeping her warm and forcing anyone and anything that wanted to go near her to approach a giant ferocious divine war-tiger to do so.

And if the roof fell in like it had threatened to a couple of hours ago, he’d take the blow before she did. Such a sweetheart.

That was all the fond thought Inks had time for before the various complaints from her body walked up, presented her bill and kicked her backwards into unconsciousness.

***

Light returned slowly, with a litany of stiffness and soreness and surlyness and maybe some other things beginning with ‘s’ and ending with ‘ness’. Yesterday’s hard work - she could feel it was late morning even if the sun was still absent from the skies - had taxed her, and the stone floor of the bunker wasn’t comfortable. But she wasn’t tired anymore! Stiff, but not tired!

Maji was still crouched over her. He didn’t seem to have moved. Which was a good thing, because it meant he hadn’t needed to. And the room was dark but for the fire, with no chaos-light filtering in through the dart-slits and no sounds of rain or thunder.

It was over. Thank the gods.

 

\-- Inks --

(Whoo no casualties!)  
(Note to self - see if I can convince the Despot to loan Gem sorcerers for a relief mission using Water From Stone to create potable water reserves for afflicted regions.)  
(Related, send Infallible Messengers!)

It was the third day of Calibration. Maybe closer to the fourth, and Inks couldn’t call upon the Sun’s place in the sky like she normally could. Not that it really mattered. The wyldstorm had passed, blown out or moved elsewhere, she wasn’t sure at the moment- Pipera would know but they were all busy.

Quick medical checks assured the convoy that they weren’t infected, but the metallic taste and smell of blood soaked into the air itself. She hoped the stuff faded, but if it didn’t, the land might sicken and die…

It was a seriously enough concern that she sent Maji away twice in one day, to Etiyadi and then Xandia, explaining the situation as best she could. She did consider telling Rankar directly, but she honestly did not trust him to be the same kind of rational as her.

Stopping only to send Maji off, the convoy pulled itself together and surged forward, pushing through the rough and getting ever closer to Susili Moto’s capital.

\-- ST --

Pipera couldn’t listen in on the two heads of state, unfortunately - she needed to know where they were within a few miles for the winds to carry words to or from them, and they evidently hadn’t made it back to their respective capitals yet.

Hopefully they were okay. The wyldstorm was gone, but it had left its mark. The mountains had taken a horrific beating from the violence of the weather, and not all of the strange things that had fallen from the sky had faded away. Piles of carrion were scattered around - but also stranger things; seeds and teeth and knots of matted hair. She hadn’t noticed them among the dead bodies falling from the sky - or maybe they hadn’t been falling as much over her bunker - but they were easy enough to spot once the convoy was moving.

The local flora and fauna hadn’t emerged unscathed, either. Wildlife and vegetation both bore marks of the twisted storm’s passage - warped limbs and mutated flesh. Inks thought at a guess that it might have been the rain during that harshest part of the storm; reshaping bodies just as the earliest winds had pulled at minds. The number of affected animals and plants were lower than she might have dreaded, but higher than she might have hoped. There would likely be a lot of slaughtered and ritually burnt livestock in the region’s near future, to avoid chaos-taint getting into peoples’ diet.

((Diff 2 [Intelligence or Perception]+Medicine roll if Inks wants to carefully have a look and diagnose whatever disease the carrion carries, +2 Difficulty to assess the more occulty stuff like mutations and the seeds and hair and teeth and so on.)

\-- Inks --

It was hardly glamorous, but Inks made a point to examine the awful aftermath with a careful, rational eye. With a nearby pot of boiling water, she found a corpse of what looked like rabbit and began a necropsy, examining organs, muscle and vein for evidence of sickness and malignant Essences.

(10d +2 stunt +2 Style + 5 autosux = 11 successes! 10 9 8 8 7 6 6 5 4 4 2 2 1 1, threshold 6!)

\-- ST --

It didn’t take long.

“Cholera,” Inks concluded after a short examination. Shit. Both figuratively and literally. Virulent, dangerous, quick to kill and able to spread through contaminated water sources - if this was common to all the carrion that had fallen; which held up given it had been in all the other bodies she’d looked at, then the Coxati region had a serious problem on their hands. Gem too, potentially - they shipped in water from this region.

And then there were the weirder cases. The rest of the omen-rain at least explained the carrion; the storm had generated many things that were of or from living beings, and it hadn’t got any of them right. The small animals had been dead and cholera-laced. The seeds and nuts and berries that had fallen were mouldy - and Inks hoped they were all bad enough that they couldn’t germinate, because if a few rare ones sprouted the trees would be vectors for further wyld-taint. All the ones she’d looked at were hopelessly contaminated by mould or fungus, at least. The teeth - and the thought of it raining teeth was creepy enough in itself - were riddled with tumours. Even the knotted balls of hair were gooey and gelatinous in the middle; decomposing into some strange and disgusting mix of body fluids.

Maji brought back a few of the living animals that had been mutated by the storm, and... well, in them the prognosis was a little better. The flesh of the terrified goat that her familiar deposited at her feet had been decayed in places to patches of peeling, painful-looking scales, and an extra eye blinked in the side of its neck - the twisted areas probably where the rain had fallen on it as it took shelter. But there were only lingering traces of chaos-energies left in its system. Within a decade or two, even in the wild without the help of humans slaughtering and burning the affected animals, all the mutated beasts would die off naturally - probably sooner than their healthy rivals.

((The goat in question has an extra eye and the Thin-Skinned pox in large patches across its back, which decreases its soak and in this case also cosmetically alters it to have peeling scales instead of fur. Largely minor surface-level mutations, in other words - don’t do something dumb like eating the flesh of such creatures, but they’re not a major threat and won’t spread more wyld around. Within an animal-generation or two they’ll all just die off naturally, and if any survive to breed it’s unlikely they’ll pass down their mutations.))

\-- Inks --

Inks found herself breathing a long sigh of relief- a crisis perhaps, but a slow moving one. Cholera was an old foe that Nexus knew, what with it being a filthy, awful city for most everyone. She considered sending another message to Xandia and Etiyadi, but decided to wait- they already were informed about the wyld storm and what it looked like, so they could take some precautions while she got her people into safer lands.

From that point on though, Inks did not let anyone drink water found from the land- she practiced her forms and struck boiled-clean stone as she needed to draw water from it, in a burst of sorcerous power. She did not want to overdo it, as the stones would continue to make water indefinitely in a wet climate, but there might be a river with her name on it some centuries hence…

But that solved their water problems, and the faint hints of infection she did spot in her convoy were quickly addressed by her innate magic. A more… pragmatic mind might’ve waited for symptoms to appear before making a big show of treating them, but Inks wanted to keep moving and keep everyone healthy instead.

That all sorted, Inks vaulted onto Windroarer and clapped her hands. The sky was still dark with Calibration, and her anima flared in support of the winking starlight. “Alright! We’re still on course to Susili Moto!”

(Abstracted stunts of solar medicine to keep people healthy. Using Water From Stone to prevent infection from tainted sources. Finally flaring anima and going Trackless Region Navigation!)

\-- ST --

((Roll Perception+Survival, Diff 3.))

\-- Inks --

(8d + 4 autosux, 5+4 = 9 sux!))

\-- ST --

***

The trip wasn’t arduous, and despite the gloom it offered Inks a good look at Moto’s domain. It was cooler here; at the most northern reaches of the Coxati territories - an effect amplified by the fact that they were even higher than Xandia’s lands. Snow sat heavy on every towering mountaintop, and wind cut through the valleys with playful abandon. The pale rock of the canyons rose up into wide open spaces atop the plateaus, where birds wheeled and flocked in vast numbers. Above them, the sky was a fathomless black vault that must span from horizon to horizon during the year. Inks guessed the highest peaks must reach altitudes that would let a brave or reckless climber with good eyes see clean across to the ocean; thousands of miles to the west.

And everywhere there were the signs of man. Inks saw metal tracks set like ladders or vertical rails into cliffs, with strange machines frozen at the top of bottom that looked built to crawl up and down them on pulleys. Many of the valley walls had tunnels cut through them so that travel between neighbouring valleys needed no steep ascent or descent, and the tall towers and high ceilings of the towns crawled up the walls of the canyons themselves; bright-windowed buildings jutting out from the sheer faces. Inks had the distinct sense of being watched whenever they passed near such a settlement - actually, it was a niggling sense all the time, but it was strongest near the towns - and her trained eye noticed the presence of wards and protective rituals built into the architecture. Maybe that had helped these people come through the storm with less damage than they otherwise might have suffered.

Not completely, of course. One valley had what must have been a set of cable cars like the one in Nexus leading up the rise. The wreckage was strewn across the ground where the storm had claimed it. Another had the remains of a huge contraption like a long tub with giant spiked wheels on each end. They might have been intended to slot into holes in the cliff-face and let the whole thing carry miners up and down the wall, but they hadn’t stopped it from being torn off and broken apart on the unforgiving rocks below.

The odd part, though, came early on their last day of travel, when first Maji, then Vahti and finally Inks herself heard singing and chanting from the top of a plateau they were climbing up to; a good mile or two from the nearest town.

\-- Inks --

Perhaps being watched was a good thing- though Inks was pretty sure she’d still beaten her reputation in Xandia’s lands here. She was tempted, sorely tempted, to stop at the first strong looking settlement and rest, but leaning on their a stranger’s already diminished reserves just after a wyldstorm rankled.

So she urged her convoy onward- but the rough terrain was giving away to more roads and kept up paths- their pace nearly doubled in some stretches. And the snow! The stuff in Nexus was often a sooty, foul slush when it came at all, choking up the rivers with ice and gunk. Powder-white fingers of the stuff stretched down from mountain peaks and clung to the spars and crags. When Ajjim deemed it safe, Pesala all but bolted into a nearby drift of the stuff with a will. Pipera was hardly bothered by the chill, and the bindi on Inks’s brow made the gusts and flurries pleasantly cool.

Sadly, everyone else was forced to bundle up, but they were making good time though.

The vertical townscapes were so interesting though. She made a note of the damage, confident that she could fix it if need be, but made another bolder mental note not to do so without more neatly manipulating Moto into a favorable agreement. Xandia had been a learning experience.

Idly, she wondered what Moto’s people ate- Etiyadi farmed, Xandia herded livestock…

That though was put aside though, when she heard the chanting. Chanting meant people- and people meant… if not safety than business! She still made a point to signal Maji for his indispensable presence, and Pipera kept a dart or three stashed in the sash of her jacket.

“Nothing for it-” Inks hiked forward along Windroarer and approached the sounds!

\-- ST --

There were indeed people. Dozens of people. Inks runs an eye over them - no children, all wearing white cloaks and horned masks, arranged in a roughly circular ritual-pattern she couldn’t identify at a glance. It definitely was a ritual; she could tell that much. The group moved in practiced union; lines of linked hands orbiting the five masked cultists at the centre - who, when Inks looked closer, were drawing patterns on the ground with silvery blades. The design of the swords looked vaguely familiar, though it was hard to place with half a dozen people in the way at any given time, and the chanting was a mix of Old Realm from the centre and at least two different dialects she didn’t understand in the orbiting parts.

All this took her only a few seconds of observation. But in the same span of time, the cultists spotted her caravan. Inks saw the moment she was noticed - there was a ripple, ever-so-slight, among the beat of the chant as heads turned and voices faltered for a breath.

But they recovered without losing their momentum and carried on; heedless of the group approaching.

((Perception+Investigation, Diff 1 base, Diff 4 for some conclusions on what’s going on here.))

\-- Inks --

She hoped the swords weren’t like the recovered weapons from the botched ambush. Her ribs had long since healed, but the pain was a strong memory. She kept it in mind though as she assessed the goings on, nodding politely even though she was shining bright as the sun the whole time. 

The ritualists did not stop her as the convoy moved onward, though everyone slowed down enough for a respectful sort of stillness. Either the lull before the storm, or the more hopeful awkward pause between new acquaintances. 

(Stunted Per+Invest + Style, 12d +4 autosux, Rolled 3+4 for 7!)

\-- ST --

They were scared, was the first thing she realised. Not her convoy; the cultists. The outer ones especially; the ones at the ends of the chains of linked hands that spun and orbited and seemed to move through each other around the inner rings and the central five; they were terrified. Of her, and of her group. The tension and fear in the air was building with every step, and she could feel the weight of attention on Maji and on her; simhata-mounted and glowing like the sun.

“Shriekers,” Inks heard whispered from behind her somewhere, and oh, right, yes. That would make sense. If these were the moon-cultists she’d heard about, no wonder they were scared. They probably expected to be attacked or slaughtered on sight. Which made it more impressive still that they were holding their nerve; continuing their ritual even in the expectation of being cut down.

It also gave her a name for those swords at the centre of the pattern. Falcastras. The blades associated with one of Luna’s aspects. The pattern of the dance she couldn’t begin to guess at, but the confusing way the orbiting lines of dancers broke and reformed while always orbiting the middle was probably invoking the passage of the moon across the sky, and might have something to do with the wyldstorm.

Taken favourably, this might be a ritual to repair the damage it left in its wake.

From the muttering behind her, a lot of Etiyadi’s and even Xandia’s escort were thinking more along the lines of these people having summoned it.

\-- Inks --

Inks quieted them with a steely look, before pointedly going about her business letting Windroarer do all the important ‘riding’ business that she’d someday like to learn properly. 

Thinking, she bade Windroarer slow while Ajjim and Pipera kept the caravan moving at its stable pace. Just long enough that she could clear her throat and say “Hello!”

\-- ST --

((Cha+Pres at Diff 4 to stop any of Etiyadi’s people she brought along doing anything... rash, and to make a good impression on the moon-cultists.))

\-- Inks --

(Sun Queen Admiration Style 3 + 1d perk, cha 2, pres 4, +2 stunt; 12d +3 autosux. Rolled 4 +3, total of 7, threshold 3!)

\-- ST --

A slight edge of panic entered the chanting, and one figure - from somewhere near the middle, if Inks had followed their path right, though not the central five - emerged fluidly from the shifting dance and hurried up to block her path.

“No further!” he said frantically. He sounded young. “The ritual... no sunlight! Back, back, please!”

No longer focused on the dance, his fear of the Coxati among her ranks was a lot more evident - the others must think their work was important indeed to be suppressing it so hard. But he seemed to at least trust that Inks herself wasn’t going to hurt him, and the caravan had been quelled for the moment by her glare.

\-- Inks --

Inks moved back without complaint, bowing as best she could from atop Windroarer. “Of course! I should’ve known better, I apologize.”

“I suppose we’ll be on our way, but is there anything on the way ahead we should know about? We’re heading to the capitol.”

\-- ST --

“You... you will simply leave?” Inks was willing to bet that there was a very confused expression behind that horned mask. “You will not...” he trailed off, glancing back at the ritual uncertainty. “... nothing? In truth?”

\-- Inks --

“You’re not doing anything I find… actionable?” She didn’t want to say offensive or hostile. “It’s a ritual, it’s your business. I’m a professional.”

She did in fact hear Pipera’s sputtering cough and forced silence. “...Mostly professional. I’d be happy to offer my services as a doctor if your people weren’t busy, but… you seem busy?”

The caravan was moving further ahead now, and Inks hummed, deciding it was safe enough to continue speaking for now- but not much longer. “We just got out of the worst of that wyldstorm about a day and a half ago, give or take? How badly were you all hit up here?”

\-- ST --

“No- not...” he stutters, and yes, that’s definitely confusion behind the mask. “The storm... was dying off, I think. But two towns have fallen sick nearby. Many are broken or damaged. And the land needs to be cleansed.” He motioned over his shoulder at the chanting. “This is what we attempt now. Impacci’s Vengeance always leaves the land wounded, and wounds left untreated will rot.”

There’s something about those two words that implies a story. What kind of storm has a name? And an implication that it’s happened before?

\-- Inks --

“Can you tell me your name?”

\-- ST --

He’s silent for a moment. “You may call me Hunter, lady,” he says nervously, which is so obviously a pseudonym coming from a moon cultist that it almost wraps back around into being subtle again. Inks catches an expressive eyeroll from Pipera, who’s probably thinking along the same lines.

\-- Inks --

“I might send a messenger your way,” She angled her chin to Maji. “Who will speak with my voice. I’m curious as to this Impacci’s Vengeance.” With that she tossed him a jaunty wave and one of her customary, flirtatious grins. “Bye now!”

\-- ST --

***

It wasn’t Inks’ first Calibration. It wasn’t even the twentieth - that she remembered. It was, however, probably the one where she was most relieved to see the sun rise again.

And rise it did, far to the east. As high as they were on the eastern slopes of the Firepeaks, the piercing rays of dawn struck the caravan clear and true, like arrows loosed from the sun to bring salvation and scour away the night. A chorus of cheers went up from the caravan - cheers, tears, wild yells of triumph and more - and Inks herself bathed in the blessed light of day and the birth of a new year.

Still, celebration could only last so long. As with the last day of the old year, so too were there rituals to welcome the first day of the new, and these took up most of the morning. But come lunchtime - and a very pleasant repaste courtesy of Maji and Vahti going off to hunt together - they were on the move again. The travel over Calibration had put them very nearly on Susilo Moto’s doorstep, and while it took some pushing, it was in that fuzzy period between late afternoon and early evening that they saw it.

The city of the Dragonblooded lord was nestled between two mountains, in something that was less a valley and more a crease where two opposing slopes met and joined to become a single downhill plane. The fortified town looked out over a valley replete with mineshafts and excavations - fully half of them cold and unused, to Inks’ trained eye. More interestingly, there was a wide road of gleaming metal running all the way up the valley, rising up to the town where two more such roads split out and vanished into huge tunnels cut into the mountain. It was too far to get a good sense of scale, but if each one wasn’t large enough to take a fully-loaded yeddim-cart or, hell, one of Suleiman’s sandships - sail included - Inks would eat her own bindi.

The town itself had big, thick stone walls with more of that gleaming metal - it wasn’t bronze or steel; she couldn’t place it easily - plated around the top and base. It was oddly shaped; like it had started out a rough circle around the point where the three metal roads met and then been expanded sideways towards the tunnel that disappeared into the northern mountain; the walls going right up to the steep mountain-face. Inks could see the signs of habitation in and around that tunnel, so the town probably extended into it in a manner similar to Gem.

The southern tunnel, by contrast, had been blocked off a few yards in by a solid stone wall that showed no sign of bricklaying or separate parts, but was too sheer and solid to be natural. Another half-circular wall, thrice the height of a grown man, blocked it off from even being approached - and that one was two or three yards thick, if Inks was any judge.

Approaching the walls, Inks almost felt at home. It was an industrial town, and the sounds of forges and workshops reminds her of Seventh Scorpion. The rest of her manor-entourage felt the same way, though how pleased they were about it varies. Pesala’s ears were already flattening against her head with a pout at the noise levels.

\-- Inks --

It was new, familiar and a dozen other things besides. The ringing peal of hammer on metal and stone lent a spring to her step as she laughed. “Alright, let’s see if we can find a place to stay before doing some business!”

With that, Inks moved her caravan onward with a buoyant will, beaming smiles all the while. The tunnel was lit from within by flameless lights, and she watched shifts of miners march to and fro as they gave way for the larger wagons and raw material carts. The tunnel itself had tracks, and a lane set aside for what looked liked self-powered trains at a glance.

Breaking out of the tunnels into the main boulevard, Inks grinned even harder. Manufactories, forge-works, refineries and more. It was a messy, muscly, metal sort of place. It wasn’t a bazaar or teeming market like Gem or Nexus, but it had a proud, industrial character Inks could respect.

She also stood out amongst the crowd, dressed in a relatively thin dress compared to the high-altitude furs and jackets all around. As was right and proper.

Pipera had moved up to join her, and Inks turned with a sly smile. “So- what’d be a good gift idea for Susili Moto?”

\-- ST --

Pipera hums thoughtfully. “He’s known for his interests in Shogunate technology,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “So a useful trinket or tool or machine, the location of a ruin he hasn’t explored yet, blueprints or diagrams... something like that would go down very well with him, I think.”

\-- Inks --

“Nothing I have immediately onhand, sadly.” Inks still knew it was good advice. “Something to keep in mind for the future…. I could build something he needs, I suppose. Or fix.”

The capital city itself showed its age- Moto had obviously attempted to maintain the Shogunate era architecture and geomantic aesthetic, but the reality was such that… rough edges happened. What was originally an unobstructed path up and into the mountain became something of a zig-zag path through improvised alleys and storage yards, fenced in sections of raw and worked material. One they passed by was a stack of steel plates taller than Inks, of the finest quality she’d ever seen.

It was a lived in city, not a preserved ruin or museum to some forgotten age.

“Well, nothing for it- let’s introduce ourselves to the lord of this land-”

With that, Inks and her convoy carefully threaded the needle of the urban tangle- not a sprawl, as there was nowhere to go. Steam and Essence-powered cargo lifts pulled them higher, level by level in the almost tiered city. It took a bit of gladhanding, of Inks leaning on her physical charisma and force of personality, but eventually they made their way to Moto’s seat of power, ready to meet and greet.

\-- ST --

((Perception+Occult, Diff 1, +1 bonus))

\-- Inks --

(7 sux on 9d, 10 10 9 7 7 5 4 2)

\-- ST --

As soon as Inks set foot through the doors of the grand temple-esque building that held Moto’s court, she recognised the feeling. It was one she’d felt quite recently, after all - though not as free or unbound or wild or natural as that experience had been. It was a purer sensation, too; there were no stars woven into this place of power. It was all stone; rock and ore and metal driven deep into the earth.

A manse. A fairly powerful one, from the feel of it.

((Manse 3, Earth-Aspected, built in a very... “loud” style. Subtle, it is not.))

She had a while to get used to it, because once they were in they were told to wait. And wait. And wait. From the length of the wait and the warnings she’d had about Moto’s penchant for irritating people, Inks fully believed he was intending to make them wait clean through the night and probably well into the next day. As it was, some light flirting and frank requests to his staff got her, Pipera, Vahti and Maji - despite the best efforts of several to prevent this last from accompanying her as a overprotective bodyguard - through the doors of his workshop as the last hour of light died from the evening.

Inks walked through the broad metal doors, her eyes fell on the figure leant over one of the tables, and...

((21 dice rolled for 13 successes.))

... the light fell on his muscled arms and shoulders; the tailored jacket he wore - with spotted singe marks and repairs that showed it was something he worked in, here with his tools and all this wonderful infrastructure. The way he was so casually leaning; confident and suave, his deep flint-grey eyes...

She heard Pipera inhale sharply behind her, along with Vahti’s gasp, and felt a sudden urge to turn and slap them or warn them away!

((UMI seduction attack that got past her MDV; does Inks shrug it off after the first split-second?))

\-- Inks --

That was hot. Inks was not above admitting that to herself. She stood her ground, acknowledging the skill and effort that went into being so effortlessly scrumptious…

(Rolled 3 sux on 8d from 1st integ + stunt; Did not boost DMDV past 13. Spending 1wp to resist the mental influence)

But she did so on pure force of will. She met Vahti’s eye first, all too aware of how the Flame Duck was feeling, but gently and minutely shook her head no. To Pipera… she was pretty sure Pipera was immune to such charms, but it didn’t hurt to check.

“Susili Moto-” Inks grinned despite the blatant manipulation. “Your reputation precedes you.”

\-- ST --

((And end session on that. For this gargantuan session:  
a full 14XP base  
+2 bonus XP for that great emotional scene with Pipera and Inks’ performance during the wyldstorm  
+8 Sorcery XP for her use of Raising the Earth’s Bones along the way, her genius use of Private Plaza during the storm and her invocation of Water From Stone to keep people from getting cholera en-route  
+5 mortal XP for a gruelling journey that was a huge learning experience  
Pipera is now an Ally 3, with potential to grow into an Ally 4 as she gets more experience and grows more.  
Vahti has matured somewhat, and while she’s still an Ally 1 she’s had a life-defining major experience that may influence the direction of her development as an elemental.  
Inks has Reputation 1 (Stormwarden). Currently it is limited to the fairly small group of people who experienced it in person or have heard of it in the few days since. As word spreads, it will climb to Reputation 3.

Enjoy the fruits of your heroism! You can waive training time on one Charm linked to the experience of coming through the journey and storm intact - this could be another Survival thing, but it could also be Presence (for having inspired everyone and kept them together), Integrity (for keeping it together herself), Craft (for her building of the wyld-shelter and keeping it in one piece if it would have helped there), an anti-Wyld charm of some sort, etc.))


	35. Session 35: Susili Moto - Coxati Lord

"Susili Moto-" Inks grinned despite the blatant manipulation. "Your reputation precedes you." 

Now that her head had cleared, she was able to get a better look at the man. He was dark-skinned like most of the Coxati, though lighter than any she'd seen yet. His head was shaved bald, and there was a pattern trimmed into his short, close-cropped beard. 

His clothes had two layers; an airy set of bright red and orange scarves and tassels over more hard-wearing, earthen-coloured work clothes. Metal bracelets sat on each wrist - that same odd metal she'd caught glimpses of covering the road up the valley and cladding the ramparts and base of the city walls. These were polished and clean, however; not stained by dirt and weathering, and Inks could see the strange way that colours seemed to swim and blend under the surface and the tiny scale-like facets. 

"So does yours, darling," Moto said, drawing her attention back to his face. Sharp brown eyes held a mocking edge, and he'd clearly been sizing her up just as she'd been assessing him. "I've heard a lot about your reputation. Here, think fast!" 

His hand flicked, and there was something small and metallic flying through the air towards her.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Dex+Athletics to catch it, Diff 2))  
> ST: ((Or dodge it.))  
> ST: ((Or parry it into a wall, or whatever.))  
> 

Inks blinked, but even so she was an Exalt- something thrown harder than a mortal could snatch out of the air was mere play for either of them. Even so if she fumbled it, there were opportunities. Her hand snapped out fingers splayed and accepting!

>   
> Inks: (Stunted, dex 2, Ath 1, +1 autosux from 2nd excellency, +1d from 1st excellency. Hmm. Only a +1 stunt, forgot to make it more about The Scene. Still, 5d+1 sux,)  
> Inks: (... lulz. 10 10 9 6 6 ; 5 sux on 5d, +1 auto).  
> Inks: (Threshold 4)  
> 

She didn't flinch or fumble, and the graceful swipe of her hand that plucked it from its trajectory was a thing of casual, effortless ease. It was a hand tool - a beautifully ingenious little thing that she could see served multiple functions - here were gripping prongs, which with a simple twist could become shears, and the design of the arms allowed it to be used as a small prybar or a bolt-remover as well.

"Your price for the meeting is helping me out; I've got a lot to do," said Moto flippantly. "Come over and put your hands to good use on this; we can talk while you show me what you've got to offer. You too, sweetheart," - this was directed at Pipera, whose teeth Inks could almost hear grinding at the endearment - "you can find something to contribute, I don't doubt."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Thinkan)  
> 

The first thing Inks did was put a steadying hand on Pipera's wrist, tossing in a sly little wink of reassurance. She turned to catch Vahti's eye, and after a little silent dialogue, came up with a plan. "Hmm... I've a counter-offer." Inks's posture shifted, slinky and sensual as Vahti mirrored her.

Striding forward, heels clicking on the stone floor and almost punctuating the twist and scrape of tool against working surface, Inks and Vahti both sashayed through the workshop hall, until Inks sidled up next to Moto. It was a tool she rarely used, angry-sexy, but it radiated off of her in waves. 

She hiked herself up on the same table he was using, Vahti doing the same and pressing up against her side while Inks folded one art-covered leg over the other. "Would you like to hear it, hmm?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (OKAY! This is a... Attribute + Socialize attempt to Coordinate Vahti and Inks into a Presence Attack. Just like a combat version. I left Pipera out because I don't think she'd be into vamping just yet, but I'll ask her about it later- anyway)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Roll coordination.))  
> Inks: (Charisma+Socialize, Diff (Participants/2 rounded down), so 1 for Inks and Vahti. 5d+2 stunt +1 autosux from 2nd pres. Moto will get his own option to act BEFORE us though, +2 stunt, +3 tool bonus from all the Stylish/Sexy gear?)  
> ST: ((No tool bonus for coordination, I'm afraid. Roll away!))  
> Inks: (5 sux total, Moto's MDV against Vahti and Inks is now -2)  
> Inks: (Moto's turn!)  
> 

His eyes flicked over them, taking in the exposed length of leg and Vahti's considerable... assets. He shrugged nonchalantly and smirked, turning the rusted mechanical lump he was working on over. "Offer whatever you like, sweetheart, but if you want me to listen you're going to have to make it worth my while. If you can't do that in the workshop, you'll have to wait until I'm somewhere more suited to what you _can_ do."

>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Perception+Socialize at... hang on...))  
> ST: ((MDV 3, to assess his reaction to her and Vahti teaming up on him.))  
> Inks: (Rolled 2 sux on 8d, no pass)  
> ST: ((Roll 13 dice for Pipera for the same.))  
> Inks: (She rolled 4 sux)  
> 

Pipera's voice was a breath in her ear as Moto began disassembling the rusted thing. "He's not reacting," her aide whispered. "Not like Rankar or Etiyadi - or even Xandia, as controlled as she was. He fakes it well, but there's no interest there - not in your body, at least. Or Vahti's."

>   
> Inks: (Nice. Is it Inks's action again, or still Moto's?)  
> ST: ((Inks'. Moto is basically saying that she can either show off her Craft skills while she talks with him, or deal with his Dodge MDV as he ignores her and focuses on whatever he's doing on his workbench. Or at least that's the gist of it under the layer of being-a-dick-about-it.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, this'll be fun)  
> ST: ((Note that this means styles and stunts based on feminine sex appeal are going to run into mechanical inapplicability, because while he's doing a reasonable-against-mortals job of faking flirtatiousness, there's no sexual interest there to play to or key off of.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha x2. This'll be a challenge then, but surmountable)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

To Moto's comment, Inks offered a frosty smirk. Angry-sexy it was.  
She plucked a nearby bit of scrap metal from his bench, nothing he was using, just a bit of good steel abou the size of her hand. She toyed with it, and the tool he tossed her, before setting that aside while Vahti pressed herself flush against Inks's back.

"My counter-offer is simple." She started pressing her fingers into the metal, using her thumbs, knuckles, leverage agasint the table and more. And it was *loud*. The metal squeaked and screeched under her attention, like nails on a chalk board. It was not pointless violence though- she'd considered making something flirtatious, like a folded flower blossom- but on second thought a more practical demonstration...

A bit more scrap metal joined the first, though she let it scream and whine as she worked it with her bare hands. Every grinding click of tortued metal was aimed just so at Moto's ear. When she was finished, she tossed a steel copy of the folding tool he'd thrown her down on the table. "Don't insult me and mine, and we'll get along just _peachy_."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so Inks is Angry-Sexy. Acceptting the fact that her sexiness bonuses probably won't apply, this is just gonna be cha 2 + Pres 4 +whatever stunt. I'm using CNNT to work the steel, which is Obvious even if I didn't describe it properly. The actual thrust of her social action is 'respect for respect'. )||  
> Inks: (Also I'm not expecting the steel copy to actually be as good as what is likely a shogunate tool)  
> ST: ((Wits+Craft to have analysed the original tool to be able to copy it on the fly, first. Number of successes will dictate blueprint bonus for the craft roll and the quality of her copy.))  
> Inks: (rolling 14d, stunt bonus if at all?)  
> Inks: (5 sux before stunt)  
> ST: ((Hmm. You didn't actually take the time to examine the tool when you caught it, instead going to social-assault mode, so I'm saying no stunt on the analyse roll. You'll get one for the crafting, though, because that was badass.))  
> Inks: (Cool, so just 5 sux on the wits+Craft roll + 1st craft)  
> ST: ((So, from that analysis, Inks is able to tell that it's a Fine-quality steel tool that's been made to serve as four or five valid tools in one, that it has a specialty of "Ease of Use +1", and that there's a clear lacquer coating on it that stops it from rusting and also makes it harder - which is probably itself a Fine- or Exceptional-quality substance.))  
> Inks: (Fun)  
> ST: ((Inks gets a +2 bonus to her Craft roll, which is made at... okay, uh, where are the canon Difficulties for crafting Fine and Exceptional gear?))  
> Inks: (Resource rating +1 and 2 respectively, base 7 for Perfect, iirc. Difficulties for fine/exceptional are capped at 5 iirc)  
> ST: ((Right. Okay, so let's call this base Diff 4, and because Inks is doing it /literally with scrap metal in the space of a few actions/ she's going to need a Charm to make it applicable to Craft that fast, a Charm to make it applicable to do it without tools, and will have an external penalty of +3. On the plus side, she gets a 3-dot stunt for sheer brassy awesomeness.))  
> Inks: (What's her attribute?)  
> ST: ((Dex.))  
> ST: ((Note that this is a complicated object with moving parts, so it needs at least Basic-level tools to make it - it's not something you could do with a rudimentary clay forge and hammer.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha... Hmm, that technically means that the action is outright inapplicable, becuase CNNT only raises 'bare hands' to Rudimentary tools. Can we let her stunt kick her up a notch?)  
> Inks: (Okay, so dex 2 craft 5, +3 autosux, +1d for 7m, +3 stunt, +2 bonus from the wits roll, looks like 12d so far.. I'll burn a Conviction Channel for 5 more dice. so 17d +3 autosux. That roughly negates the penalty, meaning I only need to roll 4 sux to pass.)  
> ST: ((No, but I'll let you sneaky-retcon her grabbing a couple of basic tools off his table, because this /is/ pretty cool.))  
> Inks: (Okay, cool. Means I'll have to write an upgrade charm for CNNT soon then, or start keeping tools onhand)  
> ST: ((And yeah, I'll say that CNNT reduces the timescale from an hour to a minute or so, which makes it time-applicable.))  
> Inks: (Rolled 6 sux on 17d, +3 autosux. For a total of 9- 3 = 6, threshold 2!)  
> Inks: (Now Moto reacts!)  
> 

Moto raised an eyebrow, looking down at the little tool. It wasn't a pitch-perfect copy - it had been made hastily and out of scrap metal, and lacked the lacquer coating of its counterpart. Still, it had been crafted in less than a minute, with no fire and naught but basic tools, and it was a respectable copy despite its roughness.

He picked it up and flipped it over, nodding thoughtfully. Then his hands blurred over it. A strange heat wafted up from the metal, and the smell of hot iron filled the air. For ten seconds or so he worked; a haze of essence surrounding his fingers. 

Then he drew them back, and a sweep of his hand pushed the raw iron ingots back to the side of the work table. 

"So you live up to your reputation, at least as far as your craftwork goes," he said, eyes narrow. "Which means you can help me with this pump while you talk. You're big on helping, aren't you? Helping the Despot of Gem, helping the Dragon of the Burning Sands - helping my lovely neighbours, I'd wager. Though I've got to wonder at young Rankar's reasoning on letting you come to _me_. Seems a riskier move than he'd usually make."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Does Inks feel guilty about defying Rankar's direct orders not to meet with Moto, yes or no?))  
> Inks: (Not guilty. Aware of)  
> 

He studied her for a moment, as if looking for something. Then shrugged. "Look, I wasn't joking when I said I'm a busy man. You're pretty enough, and you're skilled - for a woman - but I have flooded mines and a cholera outbreak to deal with. So show me what you can do on these pumps, and tell me what you're here for."

>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Per+Socialize again to analyse his reaction - or, amusingly enough, apply JET to whichever bits of his statement interest her to see if he's being deceptive.))  
> Inks: (Good reminder. I'll put JET on 'busy man', and Flooded mines/cholera)  
> ST: ((MDV 4, in this case.))  
> Inks: (That's 8m total(  
> ST: ((NOT LIE and NOT LIE.))  
> 

Inks considered for a moment, debating just enough to acknowledge that she could leverage her power over him with at least one of his problems...

>   
> Inks: (rolling compassion)  
> Inks: (2 sux... Heh)  
> 

Waving Vahti to join her, the pair of them moved to the pumps and pushed, despite their phyisques, they were far stronger than they looked. "I can help with the cholera, most definitely. Treatment and securing you pure water sources if need be."

"The wyldstorm hit your lands too, I guess?" 

"Hah," he barked. "Darling, it hit everything from the Crimson Wall on up. If one of the fronts made it this far - one that was a few dozen miles across even up here - then it'll have been ten times that down south. It was a once-in-a-century monster. We'll be dealing with the damage for years." He cracked his neck. "I grew up in the aftermath of the last one, so I know what's ahead. If I can get the old acquifers pumping again, that'll solve the water problem at least. The mines, though..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So basically, he's got a bunch of damaged, rusted or severely warped mechanical pumps that he's restoring.))  
> Inks: (Oho, I thought he needed bellows worked, shows what I know).  
> ST: ((Yeah, sorry, I mean water-type pumps; for bringing up water from underground, etc. They're not quite Shogunate-level, but they're thaum stuff, and they're non-operational.))  
> 

Inks surveyed the damaged gear with a careful eye, evaluating their worth and the amount of time/effort it would take to fix them. Enumerating that against her own time, the value therein...

>   
> Inks: (Using Frugal Merchant to determine the value of Inks's expertise in this situation)  
> ST: ((Her worth in helping, or the worth of the pumps, or both?))  
> Inks: (Both, I can activate the charms twice if need be)  
> ST: ((Heh, it gives the quality of the object, so it's actually pretty useful for this.))  
> 

There were thirty or so pumps piled up along one wall of the room; all non-operational. Some were so badly rusted that they were barely recognizable as having distinct parts. Others were warped like melted wax. Most were simply broken; worn down or mangled or wrecked by impact. Looking at them, Inks was pretty sure most of them had recently been operational - this damage was likely the result of the centre of the wyldstorm; the mutagenic rainwater and the sheer ferocity of the storm.

As it was, they were essentially worthless; only valuable for the raw metal in them - which was good-quality steel, mostly, albeit horribly treated. The ones along the opposite wall, though, had been restored, and Inks thought those were probably quite valuable. There was magic in them - they would pump tirelessly and efficiently with little input of labour - and they came in a range of designs from a range of eras.  
  


>   
> ST: ((The damaged ones are basically worth Res 0-1, but the fixed ones are all Res 3, and collectively are probably Res 4. In Gem they might be worth even more, since desert aquifers are precious and valuable.))  
> 

Unfortunately... well, there was a row of fixed pumps against the far wall. Moto was capable of fixing them himself; he didn't /need/ her aid. It would just speed up his progress considerably and let him turn his attention to other projects. Her help would be worth something to him, but not anything dear.

>   
> ST: ((Res 2 for her help in fixing them, since he can do it himself and an extra set of hands would just speed him up.))  
> 

"Hmm..." Inks lifted the contraption onto the table next to Moto's with Vahti's help and a thunderous clank of rusted metal. "I could definitely help, but I don't think you could afford me." She grinned, even as her hands moved over the material. Rust flaked away under golden tones of sunlight, and enchanted metal straightened out with almost musical peals beneath her touch.

>   
> Inks: (Crack-Mending Technique + CNNT, stacking their time boosts, waiving tools Basic Tools and Material Needs)  
> Inks: (This is largely Inks showing off with a free sample, basically)  
> ST: ((Nice. Diff 4. No actual mechanical penalty from the icky chaos-taint lingering in the metal, but Inks is paying enough attention that she probably sees it and notes its ickiness.))  
> ST: ((Her sun essence will burn it away, but it's confirmation that the wyldstorm was to blame for the damage.))  
> Inks: (rolled pool of 12, got 4 sux, repairs are complete)  
> ST: ((Is she making a statement that she won't help fix the rest, just that one as a demonstration?))  
> Inks: (More the latter, I'm betting that Moto doesn't realize how easily she can fix All of them, so she can eek a little more of a concession out of him than normal)  
> 

"Mm hmm," he murmured, focusing on a warped bar. "Well, one pump gets you one pitch. What are you here for? I doubt you came all this way just to sight-see. Especially by such a hard route." He glances across, and his eyes are knowing. "What drives a painted princess through the mountains, only to almost flounce off at the first mean word?"

"Curiosity." Inks declared. Maji decided to join them, padding around to slot himself neatly against the curve of Inks's back. His own ominous rumble made it clear not to crack wise. "Say whatever you want to my face." She smiled thinly. "The simplest answer is that everyone's been telling me not to see you, with varying degrees of emphasis. I like knowing things first hand." 

At that he looked up, raising an eyebrow. " _Curiosity_ drove you ac-ach..." 

He broke off and frowned, looking down at his hands. They were trembling - only minutely, but enough to be visible. With a scowl, he wheeled around and tugged at a drawer in another of the workbenches, rooting around inside for a second before pulling out a small bottle of thick yellowish liquid. Popping the cork off, he downed it in one long swallow, made a face, and dropped the empty and re-corked bottle back in the drawer. 

" _Curiosity_ drove you across a mountain route that could have killed half your caravan?" he continued, as if nothing had happened. "Not much one for common sense, are you? Though you're close to that fire-headed maniac in Gem and you call on demons, so I suppose I knew that already." 

Maji rumbled again, louder this time, but Moto barely spared him a glance. He didn't seem to have much fear of the huge tiger, despite his intimidating bulk and fangs.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Does Inks want to analyse his words/behaviour?))  
> Inks: (Sure, typan)  
> 

The sudden grab for what was likely medicine grabbed her attention, enough that she gave him a cursory once over regarding his symptoms. More pressingly, she took the time to guage his words, how he spoke, cadence and tone. Irreverence and disdain was a shield of some kind, a mask he'd cultivated as well...

>   
> Inks: (Per+Invest, 11d due to styles before stunting, 1m on Flawless Diagnosis for 'Is this Medical Y/N?; 8m on 1st invest as well. Thinking a 2d stunt, so 8d + 8d +2 stunt +2 style +1 mastery bonus; 21d total)  
> Inks: (Rolled 15 sux on 21 dice)  
> ST: ((Rolling against MDV 9, so success.))  
> 

Medicine it was - and his accusations were largely a smokescreen to spark her ire and get her angry, focusing on something else. He didn't really care that she worked with demons - though there was some heat in the barb about Piercing Sun, and it was one he'd mentioned before. Inks thought this was something he was practiced at; throwing out barbs and provocative taunts he didn't really believe - like his jibe about her being a woman, earlier. He knew she'd come to him, and while he wasn't outright opposed to her presence, he wouldn't shed any tears if he offended her enough that she left.

>   
> ST: ((YES, medically relevant.))  
> ST: ((Actually, hang on...))  
> ST: ((Roll 17 dice for Pipera being awesome.))  
> Inks: (She got 9)  
> 

Before he could continue, though, Pipera spoke up - cutting as an arctic breeze, having been drifting unnoticed at the edge of the showdown between the two strong-willed Exalts.

"It's bad form to point out a leak in your neighbour's boat when you're up to your knees in water," she said smoothly. "And veiled accusations of infernalism from a man who counts a demon among his friends is blatant hypocrisy." 

Inks laughed, shooting a look of fond respect Pipera's way before smiling back at Moto. "You're friends with a demon? Which one?" 

Moto himself was grinning, looking at Pipera with newfound interest. "Nice catch," he said. "Say, how would you like to jump ship and work for me? I can probably offer you more than she's paying you, and you'd-" 

"I'd honestly rather drown," Pipera cut him off flatly. Vahti choked, her eyes going wide, and clapped both hands over her mouth. Maji chuffed approvingly.   
Moto shrugged again. "Worth a shot. So," he continued, turning back to Inks. "Have you satisfied your curiosity? If you've got any other questions, they'll cost you a pump each. If not, I'm sure you can find something else to do with yourself."

"Hmm. Nothing that needs your attention or permission. Maji, Vahit, Pipera, I'm finished here for the day." She stood up straight and stretched, hands high over head. "We've got things to do and a capital to explore. By your leave, Coxati Lord." She tossed that last to Moto, before pointing her entourage the way out the door.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, what's Inks going to do now? She can intuit, incidentally, that his insistence on help with the pumps was effectively demanding a Res 2 cost for meeting with him as the price he valued his time at. That may have just been a one-off, or it might be something standard to his workshop to discourage people from interrupting him in there, or it might even be a general thing he does to annoy people, give him the upper hand, discourage them from seeking meetings with him unless it's important or some combination thereof.)  
> 

 

 

>   
> Inks: (I getcha. Okay!)  
> Inks: (So... thinking. I want to take whatever necessary action rolled or unrolled is required to get my caravan restocked. Then I want to make sure that all of my employees are well rested before we set out. After that's done, I want to see about addressing the cholera problem (Not really worried about getting Moto involved, I'm just going to treat the bad cases and make some pure water boulders until Moto gets his shit together)  
> Inks: (I think as a last thing, doing an overview of the region's markets for any Personal level purchases that Inks can make for herself and her crew. Like a tool kit, books on shogunate designs, etc.)  
> ST: ((What do you mean by getting his shit together?))  
> ST: ((Ah, getting the acquifers working? Cool.))  
> Inks: (As in, he's working on the pumps right, as a long term solution? I don't want to engage with him on his terms)  
> Inks: (I'm developing a rough plan on how to deal with Moto, and he's nettled me/Inks enough that I'm interested in doing so, but not in his place of power.)  
> ST: ((Cool. So is she going to try and meet him again while she's in his lands? There _are_ things she can get here, it's just that... well, honestly she didn't actually offer him anything at all, in that conversation; she gave her reason for being there as "curiosity". So he has no real reason to make any deals or - as he sees it - waste time on her sightseeing.))  
> Inks: (Oh I thought it was implicit that she can fix thigns like his pumps, or treat cholera. right now my first step of the plan is forcing him to pay attention on her terms. So that means for now, solving problems in a big public brassy manner that is Not Moto Style)  
> ST: ((It was, yes, but she didn't actually verbally offer it and that's also pretty short term and something he already has fixes underway for. When she went to Etiyadi, by contrast, she had a long-term goal upfront: "I am here to make a trade deal; this is what I want from you and this is what I am willing to give in return".))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, fair point. I'm fine leaving it as is for the moment, mostly because I'm still running on that compassion roll I made earlier, Inks HAS to do something about the cholera, but she doesn't have to do what Moto wants directly either)  
> ST: ((Fair enough. Stunt as you will - and Inks might want to talk this stuff out with Pipera, who is, heh, rather more experienced as a diplomat.))  
> 

* * *

Negotiating the rest and repairs for her caravan was much easier in an established city- even one wracked by a century-marking Wyldstorm. Enough that Inks and Pipera both had more than enough time to discuss the situation before charging onward.

"So just as an outright thing, I'm going to be visiting the medical culture here and getting ahead of the cholera outbreak- and casting some pure water spells to help out." She laid this out to Pipera over a meal spread out by the trader's inn they'd rented. After weeks of making food herself, Inks was glad of the break.

"In addition to that, I'd like to at least secure some records about the shougunate technology and practices Moto employs here. Books and such if possible."  
She exhaled softly, with a rueful grin. "And I suppose you're going to rake me over the coals for how badly I handled Moto earlier?" 

"When you arranged a meeting - at considerable effort - with a head of state, I rather assumed you had a plan in mind," Pipera said, cutting up her food in quick, precise motions. "Instead, it seems you were running on stubborn contrariness the entire time. Like a child. Would it have been that difficult to fix every pump in the room, dazzle him with your skills and then offer an exchange of information? Instead of butting heads with him and refusing to back down or give an inch, even when you clearly had no leverage over him?" 

She popped a bite of meat and cream in her mouth and munched angrily for a moment. "And you rose to his taunting, too. Which, granted, he's every bit as rude and ill-mannered as we were warned of, but ignoring them and letting them glance off you would still have been a better approach for getting things done. You spent more time firing back than anything else, and gained nothing of real value." 

"He insulted you." Pipera rolled her eyes expressively. "I've been insulted before. And most of the people who insulted me thought less of me when I ignored them, assumed I was a meek and hapless woman, and signed the contracts I put in front of them when the negotiations were over." 

Inks recalls the vicious hidden clauses Pipera can hide in such contracts, and the potentially lethal consequences of breaking them. She's willing to bet some of those people aren't quite so willing to insult others nowadays. Or quite so able to. 

Inks shrugged. "Alright. Still super-solar fuckup, not much else has changed." Or maybe it had- her normal irrepressible confidence had taken a dent, for good or ill. "Moto's wily then. I think we only got a hint of the real man when he was coughing down that medicine. I think I could... see through that mask, but I'm not sure if it's worth the effort right now." 

"That was medicine, then?" Pipera asked. "I guessed, but you're the expert there." She tilted her head, eyes going unfocused for a moment. "So, there may be some truth to the rumours that he angered the mountain. The entrance is blocked by stone walls, and there are few sicknesses that could linger on an Exalt."

Inks hummed to herself, wondering. "I didn't get to diagnose him properly, just a guess here, but sicknesses and curses of a mountain..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Occult, 8d +8d, difficulty?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Diff 6.))  
> Inks: (pff, 1 sux on 16d, will try again later with more info)  
> 

"Nothing's coming to mind right now. I'd have to ask the locals who their gods are I guess?"

"Mmm." Pipera sipped at her water - carefully checked by Inks to ensure it was clean - and looked out at the skyline of the city and the towering cliff. "At least you're not proposing to venture into the mountain and find out firsthand." A hint of a smile crossed her face. "Which I would almost expect, after our trip here. So. What _will_ you do now, besides restocking the caravan?" 

"Well like I said I want to at least get ahead of the cholera problem here for the citizens's sake, if nothing else. Asshole or not, Moto's priorities are his people right now." She sipped her own clean water, humming.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... haha, Pipera gets 11 successes on 17 dice.))  
> Inks: (pff, nice)  
> 

Pipera frowned, looking uncertain. "There was something..." she murmured. "When he mentioned... the mines, yes. The flooded ones. He was angry about those - angrier than I'd expect for a delay on mining. More like a man who'd lost assets than one who'd had them moved out of reach for a while. You might want to investigate there, if you have some time to spare."

>   
> Inks: (Nice. Okay, so actions, actions... My plan re: Cholera is to do a two-prong effort. By treating various cases (and punching boulders for pure water), Inks will also use Wise-Eyed Courtier's Method to spread the belief among the medical community that she can cure Cholera. So she'd roll cha+socialize against Diff 1, and the med court leader's MDV/2 rounded down as an external penalty)  
> Inks: (Since this is dramatic time and Inks is not shy about flaring her anima, she can be a glorious beautiful sun-angel. Shall I stunt or do you want to do something first/throw in a complication?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Nope, that's fair. Go for it. -4 external penalty, with another -1 for being a strange weird foreigner unless she can mitigate that with Charms.))  
> ST: ((Oh wait, hang on. MDV/2?))  
> Inks: (Nope! I was wrong, my bad)  
> Inks: (Leader's full MDV + Half the magnitude/2)  
> Inks: (Erm, just half magnitude, formatting fail. So if he's say MDV 6, Mag 4, Inks suffers a -8 external penalty. This is why you want to target smaller groups run by Not Elite people, before Charms and Awesomeness)  
> ST: ((Ah, cool. Is Magnitude rounded down or up?))  
> Inks: (Hmm. Doesn't say, Down if mortal, up if Exalt leader?)  
> ST: ((Thaumaturge leader, but I'll be nice. So yeah, -4 MDV, -1 foreigner, -1 Magnitude = -6 external penalty.))  
> Inks: (Works! Gotta roll 7 sux, stunting)  
> 

* * *

Moto, much like the Coxati nations in general, had his own elite society of medical professionals, most of which were trained on Shogunate dissertations of medicine. Their halls of healing were dripping with imperishable charts of human anatomy and books thick with the wisdom of the dragonblooded feudal civilization. 

Fortunately for the capital, Moto himself had lived through cholera outbreaks and knew how to manage them, so most of the obvious challenges were addressed. Inks merely shored up the efforts with a brief application of Sorcery, having arranged for some boulders to be hauled into place and struck with sorcerous enchantment. The cracks wept pure clean water. 

Her displays of power were grand, obvious and largely made without comment or demand of payment. The shining mark on her brow became permission to treat the sick, the wasting, and the dying. Her caravan crew helped carry the tale of Stormwarden as well, as she visited the bedsides of the infected.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So Water from Stone, no roll needed. Then MEdicine Actions doubling as 'Hours spent instilling belief' via WECM, and finally rolling WECM. Stunt/other bonuses? Base pool is 5d+5d, will channel 3 compassion for 13d total on the socialize roll. Hmm. Caravan crew can offer aide bonuses as well?)  
> Inks: (and or 1d for the 1-dot stormwarden rep)  
> ST: ((+1 from reputation-spreading, Pipera can supply another +1 by socializing and schmoozing.))  
> Inks: (15d total then, +2 stunt?)  
> Inks: (Rolled 17, got 8 sux)  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> Inks: (so Moto's medical court will have to spend 6 loyalty to shake this belief, but they really have no reason to because Inks is Doing it)  
> 

Rumour circulated quickly through the community, and Inks found herself the recipient of grateful looks from the harassed-looking men and women in pale blue-grey healer's robes she saw - at first when she demonstrated her expertise, and then later when she arrived; word having spread before her.

>   
> Inks: (So do I have to make medical stunts now, or can we assume that Inks has been doing them for this Interval?)  
> ST: ((I'll call that one above a 1-dot medical stunt.))  
> ST: ((For general medical happenings.))  
> ST: ((You can go into more detail if you wish.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. So... Hmm... What I'm trying to get at is that mechanically, unless something complicates this, I can't fail. I will be able to full blast excellency out any individual case, with the only issue being time. I don't think we need to minmax it that much, so Inks can likely treat... 1m+10m+5m... 3 people per motepool, and be ready to go again every... 2m castemark means she regens motes every Action or every 5 ticks? Either way that + what I assume is the base 4m mote regen).  
> ST: ((What level is she flaring at?))  
> Inks: (Means she can treat 3 people every 4 hours before she stops for the night. To say nothing of what the other thaums can do with pure water sources. 2m flare, for the moment. I'd run into Strain before anyting else)  
> ST: ((Cool. So that counts as strenuous activity for however long she's working for - meaning she can go for about five hours before starting to hit fatigue penalties, because holding her soul unveiled like that is as tiring as a full-body workout.))  
> Inks: (Right, so she can basically treat 6 people before feeling penalties. Now I need to know how many people are sick and we can figure out how long Inks is Medicine-ing._  
> Inks: (so she treats 6 people/day, sleeps, does it again)  
> ST: ((She's getting mote rewards at quicktime speed, so more than that - she's basically limited by her treatment time for each individual, which is... uh, about an hour per patient if she's using Ailment-Rectifying Method. How long is she intending to do this for? Until Moto gets the pumps working, or until Everyone Is Healed?))  
> Inks: (brb smoke detector is dying)  
> Inks: (Okay, didn't realize it was QT rate; then yes, hour per patient with Ailment Rectifying. Basically she's going to work until the # of cases that need her attention taper off. Triage style. so 1/3rd to 2/3rds, depending on the efficiency of Moto's doctors. It's not that I don't want to cure everyone, I just might not Need to)  
> Inks: (Now mind, if all cases are Bad, Inks'll cure em all, but I don't know that yet)  
> ST: ((Cool. We can assume that yes, she Just Autopasses all the cases she treats - do you want to stunt?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, writan)  
> 

* * *

Cholera was a foul, messy and uncomfortable disease, and one that killed with frightening speed. Donning oilskin gloves and an incense-warded mask, Inks turned her attention and genius to addressing the problem ahead of her. With he reputation firmly on the line, she glided through the beds and sickrooms of Moto's hospices, even visiting the houses of those afflicted and too bedridden to move. 

Where she went, she left people cleansed of sickness, with stern warnings to drink on pure boiled water, blessed with the appropriate salts that Moto was already providing. 

There were fewer cases than she might have feared. Moto's capital had been well-protected against the storm, even if his mines hadn't been, and his medical corps was solid and effective. They'd instituted water rationing and quarantines immediately, so what cases had passed the city walls hadn't spread. 

Still, there were more than enough cases to keep her occupied for three or four days with the worst-off; driving herself into the ground by keeping her soul's light unveiled and collapsing onto her bedroll every night. 

Late on the fifth of Rising Air, she left her last patient recuperating in the healer's tent and started back to the lodging house. It took a moment or two for the the sound of raucous applause and cheering near Moto's manse to penetrate her tired ears. It sounded like a big crowd. 

Gently slapping her cheeks to perk herself up, Inks pushed outside, to see what was going on. Better than even chance that Moto was spinning her actions to his advantage... 

"-and we've had a helping hand from our visiting painted beauty." Moto was saying loudly to the crowd, "So as of today, I'm happy to say that I've fixed our water-pumps, and the aquifer is flowing in fine form again! Fresh water for all, folks, and you're welcome to it!" 

Another cheer went up, and Moto took a sweeping bow, to laughter from the crowd. "Now, our southern neighbors won't be quite so fortunate as us," he said with mocking sympathy. "So we'll be sure to give them a helping hand in turn - unless our walking example goes back to aid them. I'm sure they'll be happy to have us come haul them out of the mess they're sitting in, don't you agree?" 

More cheers. And there was something in the way he was referring to Inks in his speech...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Socialise, Diff 4 to analyse.))  
> Inks: (8d +4 autosux)  
> Inks: (rolled 5, threshold 5)  
> 

... he was... he was making her a _caricature!_ The way he kept calling her a "Helping Hand" - he was making out like she did nothing but run around doing things for other people - oh, she was willing to /bet/ that nickname of the Sand Dragon's Handmaid had come up earlier in this monologue - but instead of presenting it as something she did from a position of power, he was demeaning it. Portraying her as a _helper_ , almost a servant - some bright-eyed, naive young girl whose desire to please everyone was a mark of weakness or submissiveness.

>   
> ST: ((Moto rolls 20 dice for 8 successes.))  
> 

It was an infuriatingly good tactic, and it was working. The crowd was swept up by his charisma - and they were accepting the surprisingly subtle mocking impression of her that he was layering into his words, entirely deniably given that he was praising her in the same breath that he was putting her down. With one speech he'd turned the listening crowd to seeing him as the one who solved the long-term problem... and Inks as a relative patsy who'd eagerly helped them bridge the gap for free.

>   
> Inks: (Hmm.... And amusingly Inks does not have the oomph to fight back in the same field, and even her Socialize options are limited. How to address this... )  
> ST: ((Moto is an asshole, but he's an annoyingly clever asshole.))  
> Inks: (He is, and I admit I half expected this, so I'm not actually upset. The extent and degree of his success though, is the vexxing part)  
> ST: ((If you want, we can close on that note since it's getting late for me, and you can consider what to do for Round Two, next session.))  
> Inks: (Works for me! XP?)  
> ST: 4xp base +1 for good roleplaying (MAXIMUM CONVICTION STUBBORN HEADSTRONG INKS) +2 Sxp +1 mxp  
> ST: She doesn't yet have a Reputation of "Gem's Helping Hand", but there is an alarming chance of developing one if she doesn't stamp on this. On the other hand, such a Reputation /would/ make it easier to get people to underestimate her as just a patsy come to naively offer her help...  
> Inks: aye, I have room to maneuver  
> Inks: I'm definitely challenged in domains like Performance  
> Inks: because you don't normally roll socialize outside of diagnostic or charm effects  
> Inks: I kinda want to nudge Vahti into that kind of PR role where she's as much the herald to Inks as a body guard/majordomo  
> ST: Yeah. Socialize does actually by RAW have quite a bit of "social perception" in it - it's what you use for Read Motivation and Read Intimacy actions and the like.  
> Inks: aye  
> ST: Ooo, that would be a neat field for her to fill, yeah.  
> Inks: 'The Dancing Flame', I suppose. Which is doubly nice because I like dancing girls and It'd be funny to see Vahti as an upseller  
> Inks: I kinda feel bad because I don't want to lean on Pipera (and the ST) for ideas on how to solve all these problems yet, and today I was kind of blank on how to do anything  
> Inks: which came through clearly with the pumps scene  
> Inks: but giving me a week to figure out what to do is fine.   
> ST: Cool.  
> 


	36. Session 36: Maneuvering with Moto

Evening was always cooler than day, and high in the mountains at the start of Rising Air it was positively frigid. Nonetheless, Inks was in a heated mood as she stalked away from the cheering aftermath of Susili Moto's speech. Vahti met her near the guesthouse they were staying in; an initial smile turning into a worried frown as she sashayed up.

"Something wrong, Boss?" she asked. "You look pretty down for someone who just cleaned up the last few cholera cases."

"Moto is a far smoother operator than I was prepared for." She flounced past Vahti, Pipera following at her elbow. Maji was... Somewhere eastward, likely entertaining himself with Pesala and Ajjim. She tugged Vahti and Pipera into one of the caravan's rooms, before throwing herself into the nearest chair with a gusty sigh.

Dumming her fingers against the laquered armrest, Inks thought hard. She opened her mouth, lookinng at Pipera, before frowning and closing it with a click. Throwing herself back out of her seat, Inks paced the room, whispering a subtle enchantment all the while.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Private Plaza of Downcast Eyes, 5 long-tick casting, no material components required)  
>  ST: ((Done and done. Heheh. Clever.))  
> 

Pipera waited until she was finished, and then leans forward. "So. Moto's made a more aggressive move, if you're worried about him listening on the wind. What did he do?"

"There." Inks's expression was far more piteous than any self-respecting sorcerer would dare claim. "Now nobody can hear you tear a strip out of me for being a stupid stupid flighty girl."

"He co-opted me, basically." Inks went on to explain the basics of the situation- how she of her own will started treating cholera cases, shoring up Moto's beleaguered medical sector, and her general well-meaning altruism... "And then Moto busts out a speech that casts me as 'Gem's Helping Hand!' and... well it's not actually a bad idea per se but his delivery made it clear I was gullible and exploitative." She watched Pipera's carefully schooled flat look. "Which is unfortunately true."

The pursed lips and quiet curse from Pipera was forestalled by Vahti jumping to her feet with a cry. "He _what?!_ " she shouted. "That... that _ass!_ " Fire flickered into being around her hands and shoulder blades, licking up her arms and across her upper back. The fine gown she wore began to smoulder as she turned towards the door. "Lemme track him down and I'll cram his-"

"Stop," Pipera snapped, which at least stalled Vahti long enough to realize her robe was on fire. Yelping, she tore it off and stamped it out, though too late to save the charred fabric. The curling tongues of flame around her shoulder blades dimmed, but didn't gutter out entirely; spreading out to either side like the beginnings of wings.

For her part, Pipera pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Any attack on Moto now would only hurt our cause even more. We need to _think_ about how to deal with this, not run off with loose lines and a flapping sail." She thought hard for a moment, and turned to Inks. "Starting with you. You're not acting like yourself. Why the self-pity?" 

Inks looked over at Pipera through her eyelashes. "...cause I respect your opinion and I like it when you're not upset with me?" 

Pipera closed her eyes. "Earlier, then. Inks. You hired me to do a job. I was harsh, because I was angry, but..." she hesitates, and shakes her head. Inks can see the awkwardness Pipera finds in personal subjects rearing up. "Just... try not to take it personally. Or this. We're in the seat of his power; it's to be expected that he'll have things like this to set against us." 

"That's fair." A bit of Inks's normal pride trickled back into her voice, that hell-may-care self-assurance. "Now really as long as we're not dead, we can recover. On the way here I was thinking of how to approach this." 

"One." She ticked off on her fingers. "We just cut our losses and leave. Always an option even if it'll bother me for months. Two" She smiled. "We lay the groundwork for some kind of counter-move. Nothing too ambitious, just get a feel for the local powers that Moto sits on. And then we leave." 

"Three... I'll be honest, unless we encounter some truly miraculous advantage, this isn't likely and I'm not prepared to wage socio-political war with less than twenty people at my side- the third option is that we commit to a full scale takeover. The idea appeals, you realize... but it's not a good one. Not even a plan yet."

"Well, I can at least help with understanding the lay of the land," Pipera smiled. "I've been taking it in while you've been busy with the cholera cases."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Pipera roll for understanding Moto's organisation: WAIVED; she has Confluence of Savant Thought and can thus autosucceed via repeated uses as a dramatic action across several days.))  
> 

"Ooh!" Inks hopped to her feet and pulled Vahti into a quick and amateurish spin- Inks was no dancer but her innate physicality made up for it. Vahti's simmering temper melted away into a rich giggle, and when they were done, gave Pipera matching looks of encouragement.

"The critical elements of Moto's rule are the military, the treasury, the mines and the priesthood," she continued, ticking them off on her fingers. "The leader of his military force is a man named Ilhicamina. No family name I was able to find. He's giant-blooded; Moto apparently scouted him from Huitzilin's domain more than a decade ago, and he has considerable experience with various clan wars. His men are well-trained, well-supplied and extremely well-equipped, making use of elemental support from Moto when needed."

"Economically, the head of the treasury and tax collection is Uuten Guate. You'll likely find success with him, but it may not last - the impression I got was that he'd be your best ally in supporting a trade deal but that he won't actually oppose Moto directly. Too fond of the wealth he brings in. Still, if you lean hard enough on him about being offended or upset, he might be able to convince his lord to be a little more tolerable."

"As for the mines, I'm afraid there's nobody to deal with. Moto successfully obviated the need for a labour force some time ago - what used to be a mix of free workers and slave labour overseen by the military has been replaced by sorcerous golems and automated Shogunate machinery. We saw a lot of it on the way up - those metal roads and machines at the mine entrances. All that's needed for the mining nowadays are overseers to direct the golems, and that's simple enough that Moto can keep it entirely under his control." Pipera frowns, lips pursing. "More than that; the mines are in large part _dependent_ on the technology and golem labour. Removing Moto without finding a reliable way of maintaining both would severely impact the prosperity of the state."

"Lastly - and here, I think, you'll find your best choice - is the priesthood. They're an independent sect headed by a woman called Hailing Wren. The local religion honours the land gods, so if the rumours about Moto having angered the mountain-spirit somehow are true, his position there may be shaky. Not only that, but the priesthood are also the voice of the free workers; much of the city's labour and even the mine overseers go to them for any problems."

Ticking off the last point and folding her hands, Pipera smiles. "It's not a good position for a hostile takeover, but there's definitely potential to lay some groundwork with any one of them; though some will be easier than others."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (brb, but this is great stuff!)  
>  ST: ((There's a potential in and a potential obstacle in all three.)  
>  Inks: (Nice. Okay so... Hrmm...)  
>  Inks: (This'd be an ideal use-case for Understanding the Court, actually, but I don't have that Charm)  
>  ST: ((And yeah, Moto essentially got rid of the need for the "mining labour" key with an extended period of effort to build up his machinery and replace them with golems.))  
>  Inks: (Sure, makes sense. More reliable than demon laber too in some ways.)  
>  ST: ((Which also put him in direct control of the two largest sources of wealth in the domain: raw materials from the mines and advanced tech production.))  
>  ST: ((He is an asshole, but he is good at what he does.))  
> 

"Okay..." Inks sat back down, far more composed than before. "So... what I think the priesthood can get me is an in with the local gods, but cultivating that would take quite a while. I think I'll lean on Uuten as my initial counter-move. Do you have many contacts here in Moto's lands?" She directed the question to Pipera, before standing and exploring her travel wardrobe.

Sensing the opportunity to dress and undress, Vahti joined her with a gleeful squeal, while Pipera considered. 

Pipera shook her head regretfully. "I'm afraid not. We're almost a thousand miles across the mountains from Cahzor, and even that's a fair way from the Firepeak Pave proper." 

Nodding, Inks smiled. "Then can you work on developing some? I'd like to be able to keep tabs on things here if and when I come back." 

Pipera nods, and Vahti bounces eagerly; top half off. "Oh, oh! What about me? How can I help?" 

"Hmm..." Inks tapped her lower lip with thoughtful look, before rummaging through the wardrobe for some slightly rougher looking apparel- rougher in the sense of 'tough and sexy'. "See if you can work with Ajjim to spread the word of the Stormwarden and our trip here through the Wyld Storm. Even if the mines don't have miners, this is a mining town full of bars and taverns. Go get a drink, flirt- just don't get thrown in a cell."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This is a great plan and will work perfectly)  
> 

She sighs dramatically. "Spoil all my fun, why don't you... still, if you say so! Here, help me with my makeup and outfit, will you? Oh, and let's talk _spending money_..."

>   
>  ST: ((How much in Resources are you willing to give her for buying rounds, etc?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... How about I roll int+socialize to hint at the optimal number?)  
>  Inks: !ex 18; Inks: [10, 3, 9, 6, 1, 5, 6, 2, 6, 9, 7, 6, 2, 8, 2, 4, 2, 6] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((Res 0 will be enough for a drink or two of her own as she shares stories. Res 1 will let her spend the whole night out, while Res 2 will let her cover rounds for whole groups of friends and Res 3 will be a frenzied night of wild partying at all the best places in town and has a reasonable chance of leading to another Resources payment to bail her out of a cell in the morning.))  
>  Inks: (Res 3 it is, what is life if not for the risking?)  
>  ST: ((You know, I briefly expected you to go for Res 2 as the "clearly optimal" choice, and looking back I honestly don't know why.))  
>  Inks: (ah man this is so relaxing you know? Like, 3-5 weeks of work stress are just melting away)  
>  ST: ((You enjoy messing with me with Inks' Inksness, don't even try to lie.))  
>  ST: ((Alright, you can stunt Inks dressing up for an evening meal and roll Charisma+Bureaucracy to try and get a dinner date with monsieur Uuten Guate. Diff 4+3 external penalty to get him for tonight since you're trying to grab the head of the treasury on literally a few hours notice, +3 tool bonus from your heroics in dealing with the cholera outbreak.))  
>  Inks: (Writan some fluff too, thanks for the crunch)  
> 

Nodding to herself, Inks carefully counted out the coinage before Vahti's widening eyes. "Spoiling? Not your fun, not me!" Inks sang, before dropping the coins into a bag and turning to Vahti. "Makeup." She broke out her own personal kit of tinctures and applications, applying the with an expert hand that spoke of long experience even before her gem of cleansing eased all those worries. "Darken the eyelids- only a spirit would have as skin as perfect as yours anyway, and your lips." Inks painted them a dark crimson that set off Vahti's green skin. "Kissable~!" She darted in to prove the point, ignoring Pipera's long-suffering eyeroll.

As for herself, Inks smiled and thought about the situation- it was cold, and anyone without her gifts would be bundled up for the evening. All the better time to flaunt it. She dug into the trunk looking for an airy, gauzy dress that was more interested in flattering her figure than preserving modesty, and added a lightweight half-robe in case her dinner date was too easily distracted. The preparations blitzed by in a whirlwind, and even Pipera started to offer suggestions paired with her own dry wit.

The message for the meeting was sent by runner with lightly perfumed paper, a simple trick that usually improved moods, worded with Pipera's careful eye over her shoulder. Now Inks just had to wait for a reply and meet the man of the hour.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunted_  
>  ST: ((Niiice. Okay, 2-die stunt for that, roll it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 19 -3; Inks: [2, 5, 6, 4, 7, 5, 2, 6, 4, 9, 4, 3, 8, 2, 3, 10, 6, 2, 9] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Dang, failed!)  
>  Inks: (by 1 sux, oh well. What now?)  
> 

Alas, Inks receives back an apologetic request stating that the treasurer has urgent business that has filled his timetable for the night, and asks if they might meet for lunch the next day instead. Vahti has already disappeared off into the city by this point, and Pipera has retired for the night, so Inks is left at a loose end.

>   
>  ST: ((She can either go spread some stories of her own awesomeness herself, or get a good night's sleep so she's not tired in her meeting the next day.))  
>  Inks: (In this case, Inks votes sleep)  
>  ST: ((So, two rolls for Vahti's offscreen partying!))  
>  ST: ((For the first; roll her 16 dice Charisma+Performance for STORYTELLING, BITCHES, with an additional +3 tool bonus from ALL DAT CASH WOOT WOOT.))  
>  Inks: !ex 19; Inks: [4, 10, 2, 4, 3, 6, 8, 3, 7, 10, 2, 5, 7, 3, 6, 1, 6, 9, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  ST: ((For the second, roll her Temperance 2, with a -1 external penalty from BEING INCREDIBLY DRUNK.))  
>  Inks: !ex 2 -1; Inks: [7, 7] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((... I am actually kind of disappointed.))  
>  ST: ((I was really looking forward to you being woken up at wtf in the morning to pick her up from the drunk tank. Or a prison cell.))  
>  ST: ((Ah well.))  
>  Inks: (kek, always next time)  
> 

The night was pleasant and the morning peaceful, broken during breakfast by a loud slamming on the door and an even louder source of very slurred singing entering the guest house downstairs. It was not, surprisingly enough, off-key. In fact, the voice was quite good. It was also, however, being thrown around at a volume entirely inappropriate for the hour, and headed upstairs.

Beaming and bellowing a song about buzzards - at least as best Inks could tell - Vahti kicked the door open and spun expressively. Very expressively. She wasn't wearing a shirt, had a circlet of bottle caps on her head, and smelt very, very strongly of alcohol and smoke.

"INKS!" she greeted her friend, swaying slightly in what was either a dance or dizziness. "Hey, did... did you know. That I'm a spirt! No, a... a sprit. An', an' I was al- also _drinking_ spirits! Isn' that funny, Inks?!" 

"Ahaha... wow." Inks had dressed down after being stood up, wearing little more than a robe with her hair down. "Pretty funny, Vahti. Why don't you sit down- no, lay down. Here, on the bed." A plan was forming that would be both entertaining, therapeutic and wholesome. Mostly.

Easily evading Vahti's drunken flirtations and deflecting them with some of her sober own, Inks nudged the Flame Duck onto the bed and immediately dug her fingers into the other woman's neck. "Take it easy- you've had a long, fun night."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Massage to calm Vahti down)  
> 

"Oh, don' worry! I got a shirt!" Vahti reassures her, purring under the attention. "No' the same one, 'cause I bet it. But a better one I won after! Had'ta take it off though, 'cause I ca... catch fire more when I drink." She leans back and confides, "'cause booze is _flamamabubble_ , see."

"Oh, an'. I wanted to ask you. What kinda drink is an... an elenental? 'Cause they made me a new drink and they said it was a nelemenetal spirit!"

She wasn't shouting anymore, at least, and her eyelids were drooping. Inks tried to estimate how much alcohol it must have taken to get a spirit with inhuman constitution _this_ drunk, and failed to come up with a number.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((... you can probably use medicine charms to estimate, though, lol.))  
>  Inks: (Flawless diagnosis, 5 minute mode!)  
> 

Quietly, to herself. "They didn't... make her drink an elemental, did they? They just named a drink after her."

Looking over Vahti, quietly sniffing her breath and surreptitiously sticking her with a pin after she drifted off into loud snoring to check her blood... Inks concluded that if her friend was human, and male, and weighed something like 200 pounds, she might possibly hopefully not be dead from the amount of alcohol in her system. Probably. Though her liver would not be thanking her.

She _must_ have had people buying drinks for her. And been drinking quite a lot of hard spirits, which... no, actually, given how funny she seemed to find the elemental-spirit/alcoholic-spirit synonym, that sounds pretty likely. Regardless, while she is _extremely_ drunk at the moment and will probably hate herself for most of tonight and tomorrow when the hangover kicks in, she's in no particular danger. In fact, she seems to be burning it off like a... well, a fire.

And she apparently retained enough self-control to not burn anything down or get arrested! So that's something to be proud of. Her slurred mumblings imply quite a lot of new friends who were all eager to listen to her - though Inks suspects some of that might have come from the way she apparently lost her shirt early into the night - so it looks like she was successful in spreading stories around too.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I'm going to assume this is a spiritual hangover, because the basic function of it is dehydration)  
>  ST: ((Well - heh. Mechanically, it'd probably be the temporary Bashing levels she did to herself with all that booze. Inks can certainly apply Medicine charms to help, if she feels merciful.))  
>  ST: ((or Mercyful, lel))  
>  Inks: (Oh, good point/mechanization!)  
>  ST: ((... I'm sorry, that was wrong of me, please tell noone.))  
> 

Smiling despite the hour and the interruption, Inks continued to give her friend the rubdown she deserved, even well after Vahti had fallen asleep. Pluckinng the bindi from her own brow, Inks carefully pressed it against Vahti's forehead, letting it's magic wash over her and cleanse the remnants of the night away. That done, she put the gem back on her own brow and hummed. "You're going to owe me after this." She grinned.

A few careful pressure point treatments coaxed Vahti's own spiritual resilience to take to the fore. Humming, she pressed soothing fingers into Vahti's sore muscles, until the stress and aches of the night fled, and letting the spirit sleep soundly. Inks's caste mark flickered, and she placed the time well before dawn- more than enough time and reason to crawl back into bed. Curling up next to Vahti, Inks let the woman's warmth lull her to sleep as well.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hee.))  
>  Inks: (Wound Mending Care Technique, int+medicine to heal [Sux] Bashing HLs at 'end of day', and another [Ess] HLs if Vahti rests. Instant Treatment Methodology to do the treatment in 7 seconds)  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +5; Inks: [9, 5, 1, 7, 7, 2, 4, 8, 4, 9, 9, 3] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Nice. So, Vahti is going to be out for the day sleeping it off, and instead of waking with the mother and father of all hangovers will be refreshed and happy when she rouses herself. Will Inks take Pipera along to her luncheon, or tell her to focus on building up some contacts in the city?))  
>  Inks: (Contacts)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. Let me set the scene, then...))  
> 

Freshly dolled up, with Vahti left slumbering peacefully in the guest house and the other residents pacified after her drunken early-morning entrance, Inks proceeds to the Five-Metal Platter; the upscale eating-house that Uuten Guate has agreed to meet her at. She knows going in that she doesn't have long - the head treasurer is a busy man, and can only afford a short lunch. She'll have to make her points in limited time.

It's a beautiful place, high up in the city where the air is cleaner. The building is low-slung; made of polished granite blocks. Cobalt charms decorate the arches around the border of the property, and Inks feels the freshness of the air as she steps through the gate. The walls and pillars have wrought-iron caps at their bases, while copper bowls and magnesium wire decorate the fireplaces. There are even art pieces she recognizes as mercury amalgamations dotted around here and there.

Uuten Guate himself is a thin, reedy man whose greying hair is receding from either side of his forehead, leaving the middle of his short-cut fringe protruding oddly above copper-framed spectacles. The lines on his face speak of work and stress beyond his forty years or so, and his neatly-cut fingernails are ink-stained.

He leaps up as she approaches, hurrying over to grasp her hands and greet her enthusiastically, pulling out her chair for her to sit. "Lady Inks! A beauty indeed; just as lord Moto described! How does the day find you?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Occult about the restaurant, btw. Diff 3.))  
> 

"Refreshed." Inks declares with a broad smile of her own. She takes in the decor as well as the offered chair, the picture of her own brand of brazen poise. "Thank you for meeting with me, I won't keep you too long."

As she exchanged the pleasantries, she took a closer look still at the architecture, the multiple metals and the artistry involved in their inclusion.  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 7 +2; Inks: [1, 10, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Cobalt, mercury, iron, copper and magnesium, she thinks. The eating house displays them proudly; including them or their byproducts everywhere. Cobalt, cold and blueish-grey in so many of its alloys. Mercury, fluid and liquid. Iron, hard and long-lasting; the strange root-like nodules that copper could be found in. And magnesium; so bright to burn, fierce in its flaring heat.

Air, Water, Earth, Wood and Fire. Yes, she remembered now. They were the elemental metals - less known than the grand and gorgeous types of jade, but still of interest to certain types of occult craft. Interesting, that this place should hold up all five of them and build its brand around the combination.  
"Interesting place," Inks offered as a conversation opener. "How long has it been in business?" 

"Oh, years now," Uuten replies breezily. "Since early on in lord Moto's reign. Shall we order? I can't say I'm not delighted to meet you, and a meal here seems the least I can do as thanks for your aid, but I'm curious as to what led you to seek me out." 

"Business, mostly. I've been on a trade expedition throughout the Coxati nation-states, and before I started heading back to Gem, I wanted to stop here and see how things were in Susili Moto's lands." The waiter approached then, and Inks placed her own order of seasoned mountain salmon. She'd had her fill of goat on the journey there, after all. 

"Yes, I've heard how you've been flitting about our neighbours' regions," Uuten smiles, ordering a complicated-sounding salad for himself. "Quite the helpful butterfly, from the tales I've been told."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Socialize to judge his feelings on the matter; MDV 4))  
>  Inks: (Mastery of Small Manners, autosux on read+motivation actions, +1 App)  
>  Inks: (Do you still want me to roll wits+soc, or should we waive it?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yes, roll it still, since it can get you more info than just read motivation.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [10, 5, 7, 10, 1, 9, 7, 9, 4, 8, 5, 5] was rolled for 9 successes.  
>  ST: ((Haha, one-shotted the bonus info. Nice.))  
> 

"I have something of an altruistic streak." She all but radiated charm and grand poise, every move a sublime gesture of grace and confidence.

Inks was relieved to see, examining him carefully, that there was no malice or patronising overtone to Uuten's words. He wasn't like his lord; demeaning her through false compliment - he genuinely did admire the good she'd done. Unfortunately, while the sentiment wasn't Moto's, the words most definitely were. 'Helpful butterfly' particularly... oh yes, Moto had been talking about her to his inner circle, probably more of the same sort of thing she heard at the speech.

There was something else, though; a niggling worry. Inks let it come slowly to fruition as they chatted about what she'd seen of the other nations - and the trade deals she'd arranged in them.

Now those seemed to be far more to Uuten's interest. Her heroics in the cholera outbreak had won her some respect, but most of his friendliness was eagerness for potential trade with Gem. This was a man who liked money - and not, surprisingly enough, in the sense of venal greed. Rather, he liked to see money moving; the growth of his city and the success of what was under his care. A good choice for a treasurer; well-appointed... but he evidently loved Moto's success at tapping newfound deep mines and innovating ways to optimize output using Shogunate technology as much as any deal he might make with the city of riches. Were it up to Uuten Guate, Inks reckoned, she and Moto would make nice with one another and cooperate in perfect, prosperous harmony. He'd prefer she ignored or tolerated his lord's quips rather than ruin or pass up a partnership.

And... yes, that was it; the niggling feeling. Uuten was a little too open and eager; too simply swayed. She could win goodwill here, and it would definitely last if she backed it up with trade... but regarding charismatic money-makers like her or Moto, she had the sneaking suspicion that he was the sort of man who would agree with whoever spoke to him last. Getting him to commit to actions against Moto's interests would only last until she left, and then Moto would easily bring him back into the fold. A good friend, but a poor ally for a coup.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((His aim for this interaction is "Secure a Trade Deal with Gem", and his Motivation is along the lines of "Make My Nation Prosper".))  
>  Inks: (Oh if only I had Worshiful Lackey Acquisition...)  
>  Inks: (or Knowing the Soul's Price)  
>  ST: ((Heh))  
>  ST: ((The issue with Guate isn't so much that he's hard to buy, as much as him being too easy to buy for a certain type of person. Inks can get him on-side, but Moto can swing him back just as easily.))  
>  Inks: (I gathered)  
> 

When their meal was delivered and the conversation turned back to business after a few brief (succulent) bites, Inks let the tiniest frown of frustration tug at her lips. "You've been part of Moto's court for years, so I assume you're used to bluntless." Her tone was soft, conversational, but she had his attention. "I came to this nation hoping to establish a trade agreement, or at least come away with contacts to further shared interests."

"I can't say I've been particularly impressed with how Moto treats his guests, well- better to say that I appreciate his political acumen, but clearly he has no need for any bridges, if that's how he acts." 

"... ah." Uuten sighs. "Well, you must understand - genius does not come without eccentricities. Most great men and women have quirks or passions that rival their skills. Perhaps you have some of your own." He shrugs. "And if I can be honest, my friend, he does not. Susili Moto is one of the few in all the Coxati territories who can work with the wonders of the Shogunate, and he has amassed a great stockpile of them. Not only that; but 

the mines here are the best for thousands of miles in any direction. He doesn't need to be polite, when people must deal with him either way." 

"Which is admirable, I mean, he's fortunate that he has secured such a fine nation for himself. I don't bedruge him his success, but I am hardly inclined to deal with him now- just as he doesn't need anyone else, I really in the grand scheme of things don't need him." She paused, humming thoughtfully. 

Letting that statement hang, she thought on Moto and his relationship with Uuten, their dynamic of lord and treasurer. Here was a savvy investor, willing to move money on ventures, not hoard it for the sake of amassing personal wealth... When their meal was finished, desert was on offer, and a rare treat was _iced cream_ with vanilla extract. Inks let the girlish side of out with an indulgent, happy squeal- Ordering a bowl while she ruminated on the man before her.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay, attempting to roll to pin down the following: Inks wants to check Moto's moves against her- that she's not going to take his methods lying down- but she's also not going to escalate either. To sweeten the deal, Inks is prepared to use Uuten as a trade intermediary of sorts. So Moto gets a new trade route, Uuten gets a new trade route, and Inks gets Moto to check his attitude. )  
>  ST: ((By pin down, what do you mean? Communicate it to him?))  
>  ST: ((Assess its plausibility?))  
>  Inks: (The latter first, then the former as the follow up, like, I want to take what Inks can offer, synthesize it into a deal, and then deliver it.)  
>  Inks: (Uuten clearly wants a deal, and he's smart enough to not waste money or good-will, and he's likely able to at least for the moment, curb Moto's excesses long enough to make a deal happen. Ideally I can get Pipera involved to write the contract too)  
>  Inks: (but that'll happen as the 'wraup' I imagine)  
>  ST: ((Okay, hmm. Roll me Int+Socialize for considering what she knows about his role from Pipera and talking to him to see if he _can_ do it. Diff 3, +1 bonus from Pipera's info.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +4; Inks: [9, 3, 9, 1, 7, 2, 3, 10, 7] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((How's your motepool looking? :P))  
>  Inks: (as of this last roll I've spent 20m)  
>  Inks: (so I have... I can never remember if mote reactor means Inks has 1 mote pool that's Big or two mote pools)  
>  ST: ((one pool; peripheral flare is replaced by "I'mMA SPIN UP MAH GOLDEN POWER PLANT"))  
>  Inks: (Alright, but it's still calculated using the same rules as the book?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

Inks considered the man before her. Uuten was Moto's head treasurer; in charge of tax collection, civil funding and the government's finances. His was more a backroom role than one involved in making trade deals. But while he himself might not be the man to talk to about economics outside Moto's domain, he probably knew who was, and could help set up a meeting for such. All she had to do was sell him on doing it without getting Moto  
involved.

>   
>  ST: ((Manipulation+Socialize to pitch it to him.))  
>  Inks: (Why Socialize, and not Presence?)  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  Inks: (You okay?)  
>  ST: ((Because I am an idiot who brainfarted and Socialize was the last roll. Apparently my brain thought one thing and my fingers repeated what they'd just typed instead.))  
>  Inks: (No worries!)  
>  ST: ((You are quite right; Man+Pres.))  
>  ST: ((MDV 4 again)  
>  Inks: (Stunting school is now in session)  
> 

When the desert arrived, Inks's eager giggle lit up the room- or at least the table. The bowl was chilled, cold enough to gather frost at the edges, and the ice cream itself was fluffy and smooth, drizzled in sugary fruit sauces. Expensive, decadent, worth every scrap of silver it cost.

The spoon was silver, and became a glittering prompt alongside her dark painted lips. "I think I'd like to arrange something. I'm sure you know of some parties who might be interested in extending their markets out beyond Coxati. A fair introduction could be... productive, for all of us."

She took another delicate bite, licking her lips with no small sound of satisfaction. At Uuten's apparent look of interest- in her and the topic, Inks artfully laid out her proposal- Arranging a trade agreement under Moto's court but carefully and politely avoiding his immediate attention. Better that he is surprised by a successful deal than given opportunity to alienate yet another potential market. Wiping up a bit of red sauce with one finger, Inks licked it clean with a wink. "What do you think of that?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: (man 2 pres 4 Sexy stunner 3, +2 stunt, + 3 autosux, 26m spent this scene)  
>  Inks: !ex 11 +3; Inks: [1, 5, 4, 1, 8, 1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 6] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (...wow)  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  Inks: (...hail mary- does Uuten count as holding an intimacy of lust/attraction towards Inks?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah. Uh. Wow.))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, go on then. She's been flirting hard and lookin' sexy.))  
>  Inks: (Then that's+1 sux from her mastery bonus, so I beat his MDV by 1)  
>  ST: ((Is this guy basically just the anti-Inks-dice spirit?))  
>  Inks: (Just checking, if you'd said no, I would have said 'Oh well, it's a failure not a botch, so she didn't Offend him, she just failed.)  
>  Inks: (I think people need to recognize that Failure is not 'Oh god oh god you die'. It just means you didn't succeed Right Then/That Way)  
>  Inks: (If she'd somehow Botched, then she would've absolutely been in trouble)  
>  ST: ((lawl))  
> 

He applied himself to his own spiced-bread dessert thoughtfully. "And I suppose you'd want me to remain quiet about this to lord Moto? Or at least not bring it up around him." The eager-puppy air subsided a bit as he considered. "Well... there are a few people I know who would be interested," he admitted. "Yes, yes, I think I can arrange an introduction. But please do reconsider a more official arrangement as well! Lord Moto can be trying, but I promise you he gets more tolerable over time. Simply ignore his quips, and he will lose interest soon enough."

>   
>  ST: !ex 5; ST: [1, 6, 7, 4, 3] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  ST: ((Uuten makes a fairly anaemic attempt at convincing Inks to give Moto another chance and just put up with him until he stops needling her so hard.))  
> 

"Who know what the future may hold?" Inks allowed, smiling. "This has been a pleasant meal- producitve too. Thank you for your time."

>   
>  ST: ((Okay, we probably don't need to onscreen-RP the people Uuten puts her in touch with - I assume she's intending to leave after she's set that up?))  
>  Inks: (Yes! I was about to suggest that as well- I would like Pipera to be involved with that, off camera or otherwise. I'd like to see how Vahti reacts to her Good Morning if possible, too- so... I think we should roll to see if the deal succeeds?)  
>  Inks: (I can write the stunt about the Deal if you want, to save you time)  
>  ST: ((Yes. Okay, hmm. Two rolls; "talking to the investors and hashing out the deal" (Cha+Bur), "defining the terms and writing the contract" (Int+Bur). Pipera is Cha 3, Int 4, Bur 5. Who'll be doing what?))  
>  ST: ((That is to say, of Inks and Pipera. Please do not try to have Vahti or Maji write the contract.))  
>  Inks: (Maji's contractual style is. "Paw." or "Claw.")  
>  Inks: (Pipera will do the contract, because she has the cool clauses charm. Basically include some decent protections in case like, Moto gets involved and twists the deal into something abusive. Inks's instructions to Pipera are 'good faith, but with a eye towards defending ourselves)  
>  Inks: (Inks will roll cha bur 7, + 7, +4d from her Style, +1wp, so 18d+1wp, Piper awill roll int 4 + Bur 5 + Style + Excellency)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Then roll Ink's Cha+Bur for CHARMINGNESS, and Pipera's 19 dice for CONTRACTING.))  
>  Inks: (writans)  
>  ST: ((Pipera will use Distraction of the Babbling Brook to conceal clauses that keep Moto out of the deal by giving them lots of money if he sticks his fingers into it.))  
> 

Not long after their meal, in the midst of some low-key preparations for the trip home (provisions, souveineers, securing Pesala from whatever trouble she'd gotten into and so on), Inks made time to meet with the local investors and business interests at Uuten's introduction. Breaking into a rare wine imported from Etiyadi's land, she plied them with charm and grace, illustrating the potential benefits and promising nothing more  
than she could deliver- which fortunately was more than most.  
Pipera swooped in moments later, officious and poised, brush in hand and ready to transcribe the contract. The investors steeled themselves against the negotations, but Inks was generous and forthright. Pipera however was sneaky, weaving penalty clauses into the contract to protect their interests.  
With all said and done, now Inks waited for her potential business deals to sink or swim...

>   
>  Inks: (Stunted- is it in line with Inks's Motivation? "World-renowned Mercantile Empire?")  
>  ST: ((It is))  
>  Inks: !ex 19 +1; Inks: [4, 8, 10, 7, 10, 4, 4, 4, 7, 10, 8, 8, 9, 4, 6, 4, 3, 5, 9] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: !ex 19 "Pipera"; Inks: [10, 8, 2, 7, 4, 1, 2, 3, 3, 2, 5, 4, 4, 9, 9, 10, 9, 7, 5] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> 

All in all, it was a wonderfully successful venture. The trade route was set up to go through Etiyadi's lands as the Coxati transit hub to Gem that Inks had already arranged, and she thinks to include suggestions for a secondary route southward to Xandia's capital for certain goods that might do well there. There are already routes to piggyback off of, and having seen what's available in Xandia's land, Inks is able to offer advice on what her new business associates can offer to profit from a venture there.

Walking away from the meeting as everything wraps up, Pipera gives her a pleased nod at their mutual success.  
"And now?" she asks quietly. "Have we wrapped up our business here?" 

"I think so!" Inks laced her fingers overhead and stretched languidly, sighing. "I think we can finsh packing up and head out at our earliest convenience. Is there anything you want to do before we leave?"

"Well, there is one thing..." Pipera led on, thoughtfully. 

"Yes~?" 

Pipera smiled at her sweetly. "You can start thinking about how to use that charm should the Despot find out where your ore shipments are coming from."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((And on that note, I think, we will call it?))  
>  Inks: (Sure!)  
>  Inks: (Does she mean charm or Charm?)  
>  ST: :V  
>  ST: Yes.  
>  ST: So, how was that for you?  
>  Inks: like I said mid-session  
>  Inks: *weeks* of work-stress are melting off  
>  ST: Hee.  
>  Inks: also ST that sounded particularly *Scandalous*  
>  Inks: that's something you say after a night in  
>  ST: Despite starting to run out of energy and fade at the end there - I don't know if you noticed or not, but I was definitely starting to flag - I had fun.  
>  Inks: A little  
>  Inks: But it worked out well  
>  ST: Yeah. And that was a warning at the end - not a definitely-going-to-happen since you're routing it through Etiyadi, but Bureaucracy/Investigation can potentially reveal that Inks defied orders, so a backup plan in that event might be an idea.  
>  ST: Or just some thought into "how would the Despot even react".  
>  Inks: Oh yeah, I definitely understand  
>  ST: Any other specific points you enjoyed?  
>  Inks: its a forensic challenge, not a 'fuck you the NPC figures it out'  
>  Inks: Vahti, of course  
>  ST: I will admit that Drunk Vahti was my little indulgence, yes.  
>  Inks: and I like that Pipera and Inks are continuing to thaw towards each other  
>  ST: If she had failed or botched that Temperance roll  
>  Inks: I was thinking 'onee-sama' the whole time  
>  ST: you would absolutely have found her naked in a cell having lost all her clothes gambling (and set the shift the guards gave her on fire by accident)  
>  Inks: except merged with school-girl lesbians  
>  ST: possibly singing very loudly  
>  ST: probably having thrown up  
>  Inks: kek  
>  ST: If you'd botched, she'd have burned down a bar by accident  
>  Inks: that being said  
>  Inks: how successful was she?  
>  ST: She was Pretty Fucking Successful.  
>  ST: There are lots of rather more flattering stories going around now.  
>  Inks: fun  
>  ST: Moto may be able to turn them around to the demeaning view again, but since Inks is leaving anyway he might be more inclined to just deflect them in a less threatening direction some other way.  
>  Inks: sure  
>  Inks: was there anything I did that you enjoyed?  
>  ST: Hmm  
>  ST: I was definitely super-amused when you hit the RES 3 button  
>  ST: :D  
>  ST: I'd forgotten just how ballsy you are as a player  
>  ST: or, well  
>  ST: not forgotten  
>  Inks: heh  
>  ST: but time dulls the sheer impact of "oh my god you actually just did that"  
>  Inks: I getcha- which again is something of an exaggeration on my part because I'm usually stuck in more staid or conservative games  
>  Inks: or, when they're not conservative, they're Shonen as all get out  
>  ST: heh  
>  ST: fair  
>  Inks: and yes, I do enjoy your reactions, but I don't try to be lolrandumb  
> 


	37. Session 37: Hunters and Sunny Chazor

There were two routes that Inks could use to head home. The first was to go south, back down to Etiyadi's territory, and perhaps stop in to see her again before turning eastward and making for Gem via the same pass they'd entered the Coxati territories through... gods, more than a season ago; back in Descending Wood.

The other was to head east immediately, getting out of the mountains near the crumbling walls of Cahzor, and then follow the Firepeak Pave down past Sun Under Water to enter Gem from the same direction she first came to it.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Etiyadi's route involves somewhat more mountain-terrain travel and is retreading more old ground, though it gives Inks a chance to see her again if she wants. The Cahzor route gets them out of the mountains and onto open terrain quicker and skirts past Cahzor - which may be a pro or a con depending on how you see it.)  
> Inks: (I think we've dawdled enough in Coxati, but the temptation of a rendezvous with a twin-tailed volcano godblood is tempting... Hmm... Conviction roll to pursue primary goals!)  
> ST: ((Heh.))  
> Inks: (4 sux, we're going the fast way via the Pave.)  
> 

  
  
Gearing up for their departure too almost no time at all- Inks had become a steady and experienced hand at running her caravan if not the practice in general. She knew all her porter's names, their families, hopes and dreams. She was their Storm Warden, and she knew the way. Stocked up on provisions and bouyed by the knowledge of a three-nation trade contract in the making, Inks and her party headed east, towards Cahzor and the Firepeak Pave!

Two hundred miles travel through the mountains lay ahead of her - fifty less than it would take to reach the Giant's Fingers. The route to Cahzor was one that had a reasonably direct road, thankfully enough - Moto had contacts in the city. The only obstacles would be whatever lingering damage remained from the wyldstorm - Impacci's Vengeance, Inks recalled the moon-cultist calling it.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so that's... one moment please...))  
> ST: ((Right, you're on foot and cart, terrain is Difficult, you have highways for most of it, it's long-distance. So that's -1/4 movement; making a one month travel time for this leg of the journey; twenty eight days.))  
> ST: ((Will Inks apply any charms?))  
> Inks: (Trackless Region Navigation, so 20m/day unless rough terrain, and she qualifies for that 'knows the land' bonus)  
> ST: ((And so twenty eight days gets cut down to ten, because Inks is bullshit. So, roll me Int+Survival at Diff 1 for the first leg of the journey, as well as Wits+Awareness at Diff 3 for SPOTTIN' FINGS.))  
> 

  
  
  
  


>   
> Inks: (5sux on 9d for Int+surv, 3d+2d style on Awareness, BOTCH)  
> ST: ((... lol.))  
> 

  
  
The first day went well, and they were making good progress in the second; with Inks up-front at the head of the column directing the group down the well-maintained stone roads. The hard-wearing surfaces spoke of sorcery to her eye - she could do something very similar with Raising the Earth's Bones, so it might have been that. She filled Pipera in on her suspicions idly as they rode, looking for any signs that might give away exactly what magic Moto or his people had used.

Then a cloaked, masked figure dropped out of _fucking nowhere_ into the middle of the road, landing gracefully less than a yard away, and Inks almost fell off Windroarer in surprise.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Dex+Ride roll to keep your seat; Diff 2, -1 internal penalty from WAAAGH WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?!))  
> 

  
  
"Haaaah?!" Inks's legs tensed against Windroarer's saddle and tack, while her arms windmilled and flailed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (4d, assuming +1 stunt, dis gonna be gud)  
> Inks: (1 sux, so I fail)  
> ST: ((Inks falls off Windroarer))  
> ST: ((RESPLENDENT GOD QUEEN OF CREATION, PEOPLE))  
> ST: ((you may stunt her embarrassment :P))  
> 

  
  
Tumbling to the ground in a graceless heap, Inks slams into the hard packed surface with a cloud of trail dust and lack of dignity. "I'm okay!" She huffed, sitting up with a pout. "I wasn't using my dignity anyway." Fortunately her cleansing gem kept the grime off her skin and clothes.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... Pesala somehow got **7 successes** on her own Wits+Awareness roll, goddamn.))  
> 

  
  
"How did that even surprise you?" Pesala piped up unsympathetically from behind her. "He was sitting right there, next to that outcrop! Didn't you see him?"  
It sounded, Inks thought, rather like the little tiger-eared girl was restraining giggles.

For his part, the masked figure bowed in apology. Inks could see where he'd been sitting as she got up - his robe had blended fairly well into a hollow in the side of a dark stone ridges. It covered most of him, with long flared sleeves and subtle crescent designs picked out in deep blue among the dark grey, but his pale mask looked familiar... ah, yes. The moon-worshippers she'd run into just after the wyldstorm. This mask wasn't horned, and he had no falcastra, but the outfit was recognizably of the same group.

"Your pardon, Lady," he said. His accent was thick and strange - one that tickled a faint memory, but not one she'd heard in Moto's land.

Inks pushed herself to her feet with a wry grin. "You're excused." She laid a hand on Windroarer's reins, and the Simhata's braying snarl immediately quieted. Maji meanwhile prowled in a manner most Maji-ish, detatching from the caravan and adding his bulk to Inks's court.

"I suppose you know who I am, but I am Inks, Twilight Solar, merchant-queen and Sorcerer of Gem. May I have your name or title?"

"I am Hunter," says the masked man. "Can I travel with you for a time? I wish to speak of things better not said while rooted to the earth."

"By all means." Inks allowed with a smile. She turned and whistled to the caravan, and her crew quietly relaxed. From one of the wagons, Vahti tossed her a cheery wave, while Pipera's expression promised Inks several weeks reminders of this moment. 

"Caravan, forward!"

* * *

The man - Hunter, though Inks was about as willing to believe that was his name as she was Pesala's attempts at hiding her giggles - walks at an easy pace alongside her; far enough to the side that Windroarer wouldn't snap at him without going so far that his quiet voice wouldn't reach her.

"You said nothing of us to the earth-lord," he noted, looking forward. "Nor to any of his men. And neither did your people, as far as I can tell. There are no rumours of our ritual in the city."

"Didn't seem worth mentioning." Inks shrugged. "I don't fully understand the cultural and political situation though. You weren't interfering with Moto's sovereignty or security either. Far be it from me to interfere with what looked like a benign ritual."

"My thanks." They walked on a little further in silence; Inks on Windroarer; Hunter on foot. "What are your thoughts on the Moon's own, then?" he asked after another careful pause. "You are a Sunblessed, and yet..."

Inks recalled the tension between the Coxati and the moon-worshippers - the 'shrieker' cultists - in the region. They honoured the Sun, thinking her female, but local superstitions about the moon were far less flattering. Yes, she could see why her indifference confused him. And why he might want to be sure about her stance.  
"Hmm.."

"Well I'm not really a worshiper of any particular sort. A god in any aspect is worthy of respect and... well, I was raised to understand that gods can do things for you if you treat them well... Granted most of those explanations were in terms of protection rackets..." She paused, looking down at Hunter's masked face and imagining a sour look. "Mind you I'm from Nexus." She added, as if that explained it.

There was obviously no change of expression on the pale mask - looking closer, Inks thought it might be made of wicker and some sort of paste. Nonetheless, Hunter emoted a definite sense of not even recognizing the name of her home city as he nodded. "Well, you bear us no hatred at least; which is better than some. I have an invitation for you, Lady - and a story, if you want to hear them."

"Of course!" Inks smiled, sun-bright as was her custom.

He nodded, still walking along at that same steady pace. "When you met my brothers and sisters in the wake of Impacci's Vengeance; you said you were curious about its name," he said. Inks... Inks remembered that, yes. It had been a passing comment at the time. She was starting to get the impression that the cultists had gone over every word she'd said in that brief encounters, and probably given each sentence considerably more thought than she had their entire group in the time since.

"I will tell you the tale now," he went on, and pointed south. They were on a high road at the moment, and so as she followed his arm she had a view out over ragged peaks; many of them scarred or melted by the Wyld-tainted lightning and rain that had fallen during Calibration. In the far distance, off to the east, she could vaguely make out the line where the Firepeaks terminated and dropped down to the desert sands, and the faint brightness in the southern sky from the reflected light of the Pole of Fire was a barely-visible glimmer where the horizon met the heavens.

"Three hundred years ago, or thereabouts, the fae prince Impacci Skyslayer went south around the Crimson Wall into the Yar-Yan territories; which were then the Ashodain," said Hunter; and the thick accent of his voice fell into the recognisable pitch of a tale oft told before. "He denied the existence of the sky, and around him the earth surged and boiled upwards, enclosing the land in tunnels and subterranean halls from which there was no escape. The people he trapped cried out and wept, dug upwards endlessly to find only more stone, or forgot that the heavens ever were and became his creatures."

"He left the Ashodain a ruin, and continued up through the region now ruled by Akna, heading north and slightly west. Some say he was aiming for the throne of the Golden Lord. Others claim he meant to curve around the Blessed Isle and devour the Pole of Air itself. But."

There was a smile in the strange accent as he continued. "Before he could get that far, he met a strange man at a crossroads in the west of the Coxati lands, dressed in a fine white cloak and a tarnished horned helmet. The man offered him a riddle-conundrum on the nature of water and rain, and drew the chaos-prince into a battle of words, with the man ever seeking to prove the existence of the sky and the fae prince ever denying it."

"And he won, right?!" Pesala pipes up. "Because the man was-"

"No," Hunter cuts her off. "No, the strange man lost their game of wits. After days of speaking, he finally had to admit that there was no way he could honestly prove that the sky existed, or ever had existed, or ever would exist. And as the mortals of the land despaired of ever seeing the horizon again, to the victor of the argument he yielded his fine cloak; the only object of value he possessed."

A movement of his arm rustled his own cloak in demonstration as Pesala frowned; not taken with the way the story was going. "But," Hunter finished, "the moment that Impacci donned it, the man smiled, and his helmet was no longer tarnished, and its horns were silver, and he held a falcastra in his hand. 'What is need not be proven, and what cannot be proven may yet be', he said, and with a twist of his blade he showed that the cloak that Impacci had donned was the moon itself, and the fae prince had chained himself within its light, and all his grand halls and tunnels crumbled as the moon rose back into the sky with a screaming fae prince locked inside."

"So ended the tale of Impacci Skyslayer," he concludes. "But his last act as he was carried away was to curse the lands that had defied him so. And so every since, at least once a century, his hatred boils out from the south and turns the sky we wanted so much into a monstrous thing of ruin and despair. Impacci's Vengeance."

Inks blinked. Once. Twice. "That explains so much."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Luna best goddess, Y/Y))  
> Inks: (Can we say Inks retroactively was writing this all down with Whirling Brush Method?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, sure.))  
> 

  
  
Hunter dipped his head in a nod. "This is why we worship the moon, and offer our thanks for our freedom. But, as the moon rose and Impacci's tale ended, the Horned Watcher lingered. A woman of the Coxati approached him, and offered him anything he desired in thanks - and he lay with her for a night before returning to his throne in the night sky. The descendants of that woman built a great place of power where the moon had touched Creation, and it stands still, far to the west of here."

The pale mask turned to her. "The latest of that line rules there still. Their name is Eztli, and they offer a hand of welcome, should you ever chose to see the Coxati again."  
  


>   
> Inks: (dang, typans!)  
> 

  
  
Inks's expression shifted from wonder and honest amusement- clearly enraptured by his story, into a softer, more political one. She finished the transcription with a flourish, but held off on her compliments in favor of a more stately answer. "Thank you for sharing that tale. It explains a great deal, and I appreciate the trust you've shown me. When I visit Coxati next, I will do my best to meet with this Eztli."

Hunter bowed again. "My thanks also, Sun-daughter," he said. "If you are not a friend to our group, I will say that you are at least no enemy, and worthy of trust." He looked forward and made a soft sound of amusement. "And now we too come to a crossroads," he noted - for the path they were following forked up ahead; one trail leading on eastward, the other heading up into the hills. "A fitting place to part."

"If I seek Eztli's court, I would likely send Maji ahead as a messenger." She pointed at the tiger dutifully padding alongside. He yawned expressively when she mentioned his name. "But other than that, I'm glad to have met you- thank you for sharing your story."

With a wave to Pesala, who beamed at him, Hunter set off into the hills and was soon lost among the rocks, as Inks' caravan continued forward. Pipera trotted up to retake her position next to Inks in his absence, lips pursed.

"I don't think he was an ordinary moon-cultist," she said quietly. "From what I could tell - surprisingly little, actually - he has some powerful friends in Eztli's domain. That he was sent here instead of a message to the local cultists... it suggests he set out when you were still back in Xandia's domain, if not Etiyadi's. Likely as soon as they heard of you from their spies."

"We didn't run into them until we were just outside of Moto's lands though?"

"Which is what concerns me," Pipera agreed. She frowned. "There were cultists being executed on the first day we arrived in Etiyadi's capital. Perhaps not all of them were so unsubtle as to be caught? You certainly made yourself known there... mm; there's no way to know exactly where the word spread from. But... well. You remember the assassins, I'm sure. This makes twice that unknown parties have sent people to intercept us - and who knows how many missed attempts?"

Inks nodded. "Indeed."

"I was hoping to ask Piercing Sun if he could recognize the arrows and weapons used against us, but probably after I calm him down."  
Pipera considers, and her lips twist. "Assuming you _can_ calm him down," she sighs. "But yes. It's a good idea."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, roll me Int+Survival again at Diff 2 for the second leg of your journey, this one covering the next four days.))  
> Inks: (3 sux on 9d)  
> 

  
  
The next few days passed well, and without any sudden interruptions. Well, no, that was a lie. They passed with multiple interruptions, almost all of them by Pesala, who picked up a distressing habit of running ahead of the caravan and either jumping out at Inks going "boo!", or standing in the middle of the road and posing riddles to the oncoming riders.

Apart from that, though, the trip was relatively uneventful. At least until they reached the section of highway whose name in the Coxati dialect translated as "Vine-Maiden's Hair".

Pipera looked flatly ahead at the wide ledge along which they would have to ride. Inks could believe that until recently, the thick curtain of vines and ivy and other climbing plants that made the cliff wall a solid mass of greenery would have been beautiful. There might have been flowers. Flowers would have been nice.

What wasn't nice was the snapping fanged snake-like maws of chaos-twisted foliage that had, from the scattering of bones and feathers on the ledge, already claimed several animals. And... Inks squinted. Was that a dead horse? Yes. Yes, that looked like most of a dead horse, some way along it. It had a saddle, but no obvious rider, which... oh, no, there was an arm.

Lovely.  
  


>   
> ST: ((The foliage all up the cliff along this section of the road has been chaos-mutated into something horrible and carnivorous. It seems plenty deadly enough to kill a single mortal rider and steed, though it's fixed in place to the cliff. Choose your approach!))  
> 

  
  
Inks frowned, dismounting Windroarer with a far more graceful hop. Drawing Chronicle with a whorl of Essence, she carefully stepped up to the lashing trelis-vines. Scanning the growth, she looked for a seed pod or similar, and a flowering bloom...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Attempting to harvest something useful first!)  
> Inks: (What's the pool/stunt?)  
> ST: ((... uh, okay, um. 2-die stunt, Perception+Occult at Diff 4, and also remind me what your DV is.))  
> Inks: (PDV is 4-5, DDV is 3)  
> Inks: (Rolling 16d on per+occult)  
> Inks: (18d, sorry, forgot stunt)  
> Inks: (6 sux, for 2 threshold)  
> 

  
  
Inks' eyes scanned the wall of writhing greenery, picking out the small differences; separating the common elements from the rarer ones. Ah! There! A fatter vine than the others; about the length of her arm, with a different texture. Flowers bloomed down its length, and the thinner, quicker vines grew out from its sides. Two bulging pods looked like the snake-like growths that they would birth hadn't matured yet - this must be a taproot or stem of some kind...

So preoccupied was Inks with her conclusions that she was taken off-guard when one such snake-like growth snapped out at her; fanged maw gaping as it tried to take a chunk out of her flesh.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Chaos-vine makes an attack on Inks; rolls 5 successes on a pool of 6, beating her DDV.))  
> Inks: (And she can't apply PDV?)  
> ST: ((Oh yes, you did note your PDV there. Missed that. Yes, you can apply that to block it.))  
> Inks: (Cool- as a heads up, you always want to declare attack + Pool, then wait for me to declare my defense, because I can do one or the other, not both. then you roll after you know what my DV is.  
> 

  
  
Chronicle's warding flat face stopped the striking snake-vine in it's tracks, and Inks whistled. "Damn. Nasty stuff."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Bah, I'm rusty. Okay, what's Inks' next action? Hang around and try for the stem, or back off out of range?))  
> Inks: (Hmmm...)   
> 

  
  
"Pipera!" Inks called her assistant over. "Can you throw a few darts into that mess? I want one of those taproots before I clear this whole thing out." She marched back to the caravan for some thin but tough cord, offering it to Pipera as well.

"It's a _vine_ , what do you expect darts to do?" Pipera muttered, but got her darts out nonetheless. "Am I aiming anywhere in particular, or just trying to occupy it?"

Inks shook her head with a grin. "Sorry, I'm getting lost in my head- my plan is to have you cut away that taproot there so I can get a sample- if you can't, don't worry. I'll reimburse you for any lost darts too. Success or failure, I'm going to cast a spell at this problem. Whenever you're ready."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the basic plan is pipera tries to cut the taproot free for a quick snatch, and then Inks will cast FLight of the Brilliant Raptor on the vines to clear it out).   
> ST: ((Hmm. I'll allow it, though it'll be higher-Diff because... well, darts aren't good at cutting. Piercing, yes. Cutting, less so. So she's basically trying to harpoon it and then rip it out of the wall and drag it close enough that Inks can hack off the vines growing out from it.))  
> Inks: (I'm game for that, roll, difficulty, penalty?)  
> 

  
  
Getting as close as she could to the writhing morass, Pipera took her darts and sighted carefully, taking her time and winding up each throw before loosing.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so this is Diff 5 for the whole thing, and Pipera is taking a nice long time to build up 3 Aim actions for each throw because she's not in a hurry. So, 11 dice with her Excellency in use as well. Roll!))  
> Inks: (11 dice before or after excellency?)  
> Inks: (6 sux on 11d!)  
> ST: ((After. Pipera has her darts, but she's not a fitey person. They're a last resort for her.))  
> ST: ((... however, she's not useless, it seems!))  
> 

  
  
Despite her dubiousness, three darts pierced the largest vines growing off the taproot Inks was focused on; cutting them off as the metal bit through squirming green stems. The fourth harpooned the taproot itself near the top, and with a twist and a wrench, Pipera yanked it a few inches out from the cliff.

Maji took up the line and added his considerable weight to the pulling, and the roots it had sunk into the rock served the heart-stem for naught as it was wrenched from its home and dragged over to safer ground. Two quick flashes of Chronicle deprived it of any other limbs, and Pipera dangled the twitching, slug-like thing aloft with a mou of distaste.

"You are not keeping that in my wagon," she said flatly. "Or outside of a lockbox. Why do you even want it?"

"Because it could be useful later on!" Inks grinned and took the writhing thing from Pipera and held it at arm's length. She made her way back to the wagons, improvising a container for the sample then and there.  
  


>   
> Inks: (If we don't have a strong enough box, Inks'll make one with CNNT)  
> ST: ((Cool. And now your Sorcery. :P))  
> ST: ((Aww. You have it anchored in Chronicle, not Vahti.))  
> ST: ((Pity.))  
> 

  
  
Sample secured, Inks urged the caravan back a dozen or so yards. Striding forward with Chronicle in hand, she raised her sword to the heavens and called upon the secret words and mudras of devastating flame. Chronicle flashed searing red, and she swung the daiklave down, casting the energies forward across the pass and into the gnashing, grasping vines!  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, how many are you casting? The curtain of vines runs along the side of the ledge for almost a hundred yards, and it's curved slightly so that Inks can't quite see the end.))  
> ST: ((Are you just throwing one Raptor at the middle, or staggering two or three along the length you can see, or what?))  
> Inks: (Sorry, targeting nearest chunks first)  
> Inks: (So hitting each chunk in nearest to furthest, until progress is made)  
> ST: ((... I'm going to remind you, because I am nice, that the supernatural firestorm covers everything within an (Essence x 10) yard radius of the point the raptor hits.))  
> ST: ((Which in this case is a thirty yard radius.))  
> ST: ((So when you say the "nearest chunk", firing it at the place you just hacked the taproot off miiiiiight not be a good idea, given that you are within 30 yards of it. :P))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Okay so you're expecting more diligence than I thought. Apologies! Thank you for clarifying. Inks is yes, staying out of range of the blast, so logically she will lead her target out so that the 'nearest to her' section is within the 30 yards blast but she is not.)  
> ST: ((Cool. Just checking. :P)  
> 

  
  
A form of fiery essence flashed forward, flaring fierce and bright. It slammed into the vines covering the cliff wall, and detonated.

When the blinding flash cleared, there was fire. There was lots and lots of fire. The vines were on fire - and if they could make noise, they would probably be screaming. The ledge was on fire. The bones covering the ledge were on fire. The _stone cliff-face_ was on fire. The raging reddish-gold flames had swallowed half the deadly vine-curtain whole, and more mundane flames were rapidly spreading to their neighbours.

Inks helped them along with another raptor, this one aimed at the far end of the ledge. The explosion was gratifying, though it did provoke a rather worrying rumble from above.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Juuuust roll me (Perception+Occult+Essence) for your attack roll, would you? And then a damage roll of (Willpower+Essence+threshold), where the threshold will be "all of your attack successes" because cliffs can't dodge very well.))  
> ST: ((Wait, no, nvm.))  
> ST: ((Don't bother rolling the damage.))  
> ST: ((Objects take levels, not dice.))  
> Inks: (7 attack sux)  
> ST: ((So that's 7+10+3-12 soak=8 health levels to the wall...))  
> 

  
  
A few rocks fall down from above, but it seems that two raptors of brilliant flame - despite punching deep holes into the stone where they struck - were not enough to threaten its stability. Of course, the unnatural firestorm blanketing the entirety of the ledge meant the group couldn't get through until it died down, but that was fine. It was about time to stop for a meal anyway.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Any quips you want to make, go ahead, and then scene end and we can move on.))  
> Inks: (I'm good, carry on!)  
> ST: ((Okay, last leg of the journey. Int+Survival, Diff 3 as you descend down at a steep pace back down to the desert near Cahzor. Stunt as you will.))  
> 

  
  
After the fires died down, the next days of travel took them past more signs of Impacci's Vengeance- caustic wyld rains had carved drizzling channels up into the peaks, and the waters were still sour and tumultuous, thick with the rage of long passed omen weather. Even so, Inks and her caravan made good time, picking her way through the passes and roads with ease.  
  


>   
> Inks: (6sux on 11d)  
> 

  
  
By degrees, they descended down mountain trails and switchbacks and carven stairways as they moved out of the Firepeaks and into the foothills, and then out of the foothills and into a valley like nothing Inks had ever seen before.

Once, it had been grand. Anyone could see that. Now it was... tragic. The carven statues that lined the valley walls were faceless wretches; their visages smashed and shattered; some having been rendered entirely headless. Nonetheless, they seemed to scowl down on the ruins of the city below.

A vast dam dominated the western end of the valley, but no water flowed through it into the sprawling mass of broken urban detritus that clung to the valley floor. The city it had once been, gleaming and proud and strong, was long gone. Now the stone edifices were crumbling, the wide streets had been reduced to pitted ground, and clouds of dust hung heavy over the many villages and settlements that squatted among the ruins of a city grander than they could imagine.

From above, Inks could see them; faded fabric awnings and tattered ramshackle settlements set among decaying stone buildings so vast that some of them seemed more like looming hills than the work of man.

This was Cahzor; once queen of cities and the most dominant power in the Firepeaks. Reduced, in this fallen age, to poverty and penury. And it was through it that they would have to go to reach the desert.

Falling back to speak with Pipera, Inks frowned. "What do you know of this place, the people?" She looked out upon the hovels and shanties, obviously conflicted.

Pipera purses her lips. "The thing you need to understand about Cahzor is that it's more like a nation than a city, nowadays," she explains. "Each town and village identifies itself as part of the whole, but there's not one great Cahzor; there are many lesser ones. My contacts are mostly in Cahzor-Grand Bazaar, where the Sugun has his palace and the trade still flows, and Cahzor-Desert Pier, at the very end of the valley."

"The deyha hyena clans are a major presence in the city," she continues on. "Some of them work for the Sugun, enforcing his laws... others are raiders and bandits. They're bestial and savage and hierarchical. Very aggressive. I try not to deal with them if I can avoid it; they don't respect me at all. Their culture is fixated on strength, and on top of that they hold themselves above humans."

She shakes her head. "The current sugun's grandfather was a fool for employing them. It's been a while since I was here - I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Malath III had already lost control of them. If we find their banners flying over the palace, I suggest we leave immediately."

Inks nodded, frowning. "Let's... Not linger here in general. But I'm not going to forget about this place either...."  
  


>   
> Inks: (so we advance through Cahzor unless stopped)  
> ST: ((Indeed! Hmm. Wits+Stealth to guide your caravan through the city, Diff 3, +5 external penalty for being pretty obviously wealthy and very out of place here - as well as Inks being super beautiful and attention-grabbing. Taking measures to disguise yourselves can reduce this.))  
> Inks: (not through lack of interest,I just can't afford to add another project)  
> Inks: (ahahaha Okay. Let's see...)  
> 

  
  
  
  


>   
> Inks: (Mywits+stealth is 2d, for the record, with no stealth dots)  
> ST: ((Pipera can take command, and hers is, uh...))  
> ST: ((... 4.))  
> Inks: (... I'm going to say it's just not worth trying. Fun!)  
> ST: ((You are not a very subtle group. : P))  
> 

  
  
Taking stock for a moment, Inks gives off a rueful grin and snort. "Well there's no chance we're going to get out of this without being seen. Maji!" She pointed for him to walk at her side. "We're just passing through, here on business. Everybody just keep an eye out for anything untoward. Ajjim, Pesala- keep watch out, you've better eyes and ears than I."

"Other than that, keep your eyes open and don't stress too much." Inks declared. "We'll tackle problems as they come."

They advance down into the city, with Pipera pointing out locations of note. Cahzor-upon-Dam is a rival to Cahzor-Grand Bazaar; made rich by taxes from travelers using it as a bridge, with fields and buildings of plundered stone amid the arcane machinery at the top of the enormous structure. High on the southern side of the valley is Cahzor-Font-of-Wisdom; the fortified monastery where the city father is worshipped - and where, Pipera mentions with a dark undertone, she suspects some of the priests have turned to infernalism like Hinna in their greed and hubris.

Their little caravan passes tiny villages built around the water drawn from the ruins of a single bathhouse, and shattered buildings with collapsed roofs and scavenged walls which might once have held Inks' entire manor in a single hall. There are steps here and there that lead down to dark tunnels beneath the ground; ancient rails and rusted cables lying on their floors. The sheer _scale_ of the city Cahzor must have been at its height is hard to fathom. They entered it two thirds of the way down the valley - a valley that stretches up all the way to the highlands - and the ruins of Cahzor-That-Was blanket the entire thing.

Passing a dried-up fountain the size of her entire baths in the middle of a gargantuan street, an empty pedestal at its centre and rings of reclining nude statues around whose faces had been savagely smashed away - like the stone women ringing the valley walls - Inks was struck by a sudden flash of _the fountain in full flow, jets of water streaming into the air at a dozen different angles to interlace with one another, the pool of water shimmering and refracting the painted murals on the fountain's base; the statues of ladies reclining among the streams; so lifelike that you swore you could see them breathe, and on the pedestal at their centre the same woman; always the same woman and the same face, carved from gold with her arms outstretched and a quiet smile on her face..._

... something. Nostalgia? Imagination, as to what it might have been like?

Impossible to say.

Inks blinked, and the vision passed as quickly as a lightning strike, fading into immediate but undeniable memory. Rearing around astride Windroarer, Inks circled in place, looking out at the decrepit ruins and the hardscable signs of people living if not thriving there. At Vahti and Pipera's questioning look, Inks sighed and said "Nothing. I'll... Nothing."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa, Diff 2 base, optional +2 Diff for more.))  
> ST: ((Sensing movement coming, if you want to stunt.))  
> Inks: (going for diff 4)  
> 

  
  
Pesala heard it first, whistling a two-note sound that Inks recalled was her go-to 'look out signal'. From there Inks continued to let Windroarer circle, so that she could scan the area without looking like she was looking.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Invoking Pesala for +1 teamwork die, per 5 awa 1, +3 autosux from 2nd excellency, +2 Style, +2 stunt?)  
> Inks: (so 11d +3 sux)  
> Inks: !ex 11 +3; Inks: [2, 6, 3, 9, 5, 1, 1, 9, 1, 5, 5] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Go for it, heh.))  
> 

  
  
And that's when things went wrong. The clip-clop of hooves were horses, but it wasn't them that caught Inks' attention. It was the sound alongside them. A sound she usually only heard from Maji. The padded tread of some huge beast's paws.

They rounded the corner as a group; two horses with short and slender smooth-faced riders, and three looming monsters. Hyenas, Inks thought, but they stood as high at the shoulder as Maji, and their blunt jaws were the length of Inks' arm. A pair of riders each sat astride two of them; wrapped in leather armour and with great chopping swords at their waists. But it was the one on the lead hyena that Inks' attention was focused on.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Medicine on a minor detail about the rider, Diff 3, you can invoke Pipera to autopass if you want - if so, you don't need to stunt, just say so.))  
> Inks: (Pipera autopass please)  
> 

  
  
The rider was huge - taller than a man by several inches, with a mowhawk-crest of hair that added another half-foot on top of that. The angle let Inks catch the bulge at the crotch, and at first she thought 'male'... but Pipera's urgent whisper came to her ear.

"Deyha hyena-kin. The ones in front are the women. Don't treat them as men; they'll take offense. They're aggressive bullies who use violence to maintain their positions in their clans - be careful."

Now that Inks looked closer, she could see what Pipera meant. They were women, though their size and stature made it an easy mistake to make; their arms and shoulders broad and heavy-set, their legs shorter than they should be, their dusky skin covered with a fine coat of sandy fur.

The one in front was dressed better; her hyena-steed - save for a missing eye and ear - was larger and looked in better health than the others. She wore boiled leather armour like her kin, but accented it with trophies; bright shawls and silks, little bits of jewelery and ornamentation here and there. Her wide, flat face had several piercings and a number of ritual scars painted across it, and she unsheathed her own chopping sword as she approached on hyena-back, oversized teeth baring in a cocky grin.

"Well well, look here, girls," she drawled; a slight slur to her accent coming from her not-quite-human mouth. "Fresh, rich meat for the markets."

It was probably a metaphor. Inks hoped.

Windroarer circled, tension radiating off every line and muscle and mirrored in Maji. Inks's mouth was set in a thin, compressed line. Hopping off Windroarer, she landed with light feet and looked up at the lead hyena-rider. "Heya." She let her lip quirk up at one side, a flickering glimpse of her normal smile. "Surely my friends and I aren't worth such a welcome."

The lead rider's grin spread wider. "You're welcome t'give us your supplies, plus anything else you got hidden away in those wagons," she suggested. A nudge of her heels sent the huge hyena she rode prowling forward towards the pair, its great blunt jaws opening slightly as it started to pant. She drew her sword with a rasp of steel.

As if that wasn't enough, her friends split and went left and right around the carts. Two of the warriors hopped off to move around towards the back of Inks' group, while the mounted pair stayed hemming them in from the sides.

"Hmm..." Inks moved so that she stood at Maji's side while Windroarer huffed and ambled over closer to Vahti and Pipera. She scanned the valley, the sand-choked ruins and the fitful gurgling of ancient pumps and enchanted aqueducts. Before she voiced the offer, she eyed the lead rider.  
  


>   
> ST: ((What are you looking for?))  
> Inks: (I'm more getting a measure of the region and this gal, because I'm thinking of offering Water From Stone in exchange for safe passage.)  
> Inks: (So I was thinking a per+invest roll of the lead rider to see if she'd hold to her word or not, or if that's inapplicable, just asking outright with a Judge's Ear supplement)  
> ST: ((Per+Invest against MDV 3, declare any Charms you're enhancing with.))  
> Inks: (Hmm. Just 4m on 2nd invest, so 9d, +3d from ARtful Deduction Style, I hope +2 stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, sure.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +2; Inks: [9, 8, 4, 1, 4, 1, 2, 2, 10, 2, 2, 3,] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
It wasn't hard to conclude that offering water would be valuable. No, that much was obvious to anyone with eyes. Cahzor was a parched city, choking on sand, with no river running from the titanic dam at its western end and settlements built around what water sources could still be found here. A sorcerous means of creating water would be priceless here.

Too priceless, unfortunately. This woman... no, Inks realized, her eyes flickering over the hyena-kin in front of her. The sheer size had made her take them for adults, but looking at her mannerisms, the details of her face and build, the way she spoke... this was a girl. A teenager, probably - perhaps even younger than Inks had been when she'd met Nanda. This wasn't a proper hunting party - it was a group of youths.

A group of brash, aggressive youths with something to prove, who'd just stumbled across a rich caravan and a potentially priceless treasure in the form of Inks herself. No, Inks thought. Letting slip that she could create water would be a very, very bad idea right now. At the moment they were only looking to "tax" the caravan - _that_ particular offer would shift things straight up to kidnap and enslavement.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hahha, good thing I checked!)  
> ST: ((Inks deduces that the hyena-girl is probably only in her mid-teens, and that saying "oh btw I can create drinkable water sources" would result in immediately being grabbed and used as an economic power-piece and never let go.))  
> 

  
  
Still thinking, Inks smiled faintly before looking up at the lead rider. "So what's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

The girl preened. "You're talkin' to Nabijah Laughing-Steel, bint Raiah bint Suna bint Aaima," she boasts. Behind her, Inks hears Pipera swear, low and vicious, under her breath. "An' this is Muta," Nabijah adds smugly, spurring her steed on a few paces closer and smirking as it growled.

"Pleased to meet you." Inks grinned. "You can call me Inks. So you want to see what's on offer?" She waved one colorful arm at the wagons. "I'd be happy to do business if you are."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I don't mean to delay this from Combat Combat, but I want to try and resolve this peacefully before escalating if at all)  
> 

  
  
Nabijah laughs. Her friends laugh too, mockingly, and the hyenas follow suit, the low whooping yips echoing off the pitted walls of the wide boulevard and the wrecked fountain.

"Business, huh?" she mimicked, spurring Muta on towards the caravan and baring her teeth at Maji as she passed. Inks caught the other two mounted deyha sliding off their own companions as she did, making it four girls and two giant hyenas they were now surrounded by. "Yeah, we'll do _business_. Show me what you've got to offer, softie."

Meeting Pipera and Vahti's eye as she turned, Inks urged them to Get Ready- to flee or fight but hopefully neither. She urged her porters, Ajjim and Pesala, to cluster up for defense as they steeled themselves as well. Inks took the lead, opening the wagons with care and presenting some samples crate by crate.

Foodstuffs from Xandia and Etiyadi, metalworkings and ore samples from Moto. Finished works from Gem she hadn't sold yet. None of it she was above sacrificing if it got them out of there alive, but she had an opportunity...

"This is it." Inks turned to look up at Nabijah. "Everything worth mentioning. If you kill me and mine though, you'll likely not see anything like it again in your lifetime." She locked eyes with the heyna-rider. "Not as a threat- there just won't be a trader like me coming through here. I'm the only one who had the guts."

Nabijah shrugs. "Why would I kill you? S'no point in that. Means you can't come an' do _business_ again." She grins, looking over the goods. "These're good, though. I'll be takin' most of these. I'll leave you enough food'n'water to get to... where you headed after this?"

"Does it really matter?" Inks stared back, unflinching. "But if you want to do business, then you better step up and use more than your sword arm. You can be rich, powerful, dangerous- but you'd damn well better be smart too."

"So why don't we cut the posturing. I think you want a big score, something you can hold up high and say "I did this!" I'd be happy to help, but it has to be a deal."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I am gonna try and do a presence influence to convince her that allying with me, temporarily at least, is better than just mugging me.)  
> ST: ((Heh. Hang on...))  
> Inks: (I am attempting to follow the Tyrian Lannister approach of talking at my opponent's level)  
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Socialise = 4+5+2 stunt plus up to 5 ExD for Pipera to rapidly sum up a couple of things about Nabijah.))  
> Inks: !ex 11; Inks: [5, 9, 4, 4, 8, 5, 10, 10, 3, 7, 4] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> ST: ((If successful, she will aid Inks'... well okay then.))  
> 

  
  
"More than that," Pipera continued, following on from where Inks left off. "Your mother is Raiah Laughing-Steel, yes? Leader of the Sugun's largest deyha pack." She's talking to Inks as much as Nabijah. "And you're one of her younger daughters. You want something to give you an edge on your older sisters."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, Pipera has given you some useful contextual info and a +2 assistant bonus. Roll against Nabijah's MDV 3, currently boosted to 7 by a 4-dot Principle. Sexy Stunner is invalid, because Inks isn't physically much to be impressed about by deyha standards.))  
> Inks: (Thanks for calling out stunner, but I was thinking it wasn't gonna work anyway~)  
> Inks: (okay, cha 2, pres 4, +3 autosux from 2nd presence, +2 assistance, stunt bonus? And I'll channel Conviction for 5d, bringing me to 13d before stunt)  
> ST: ((2 die stunt, go for it))  
> Inks: !ex 15 +3; Inkd [6, 2, 6, 5, 4, 1, 4, 1, 5, 10, 2, 10, 9, 5, 8] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (you can't see me but I am dancing in my chair)  
> 

  
  
Nabijah's teeth bared at the mention of her being a younger daughter, but Inks' words seemed to strike home. She sheathed her sword, at least, and a couple of gestures set her companions to prowling around the caravan but not advancing inward. Fisting a hand in Muta's mane as the hyena growled at Inks again, she yanked hard to make it stop. Maji's returning growl, and the snapping jaws that were Muta's response merited a cuff around the remaining ear.

"What kind of deal?" she asked suspiciously. "What would you want?"

"Oh lots of things, wealth, treasure, knowledge." Inks allowed airly. "But what I want from you is a truce, which includes safe passage out of Cahzor, but that also you're someone I can count on when I come back. What does Cahzor have that the world wants? What does Cazhor want that the world has? Tell me this and I can provide it for you, and you'll be the first of this land to have it."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Tum tee tum... Int 2 + Bur 0 - untrained penalty 1... holy shit, 2 successes, what the fuck.))  
> Inks: (Clearly she is heroic,)  
> 

  
  
Nabijah shrugged. "We got us deyha. No better fighters anywhere; we're godsblessed. Better than any human." She sneers the word, looking down at Inks despite Muta standing slightly lower at the shoulder than Windroarer. "An' we want water. Money. That kind of shit."

It occurs to Inks that a teenage thug might not have the best understanding of regional economics, or indeed much care for it. Though if the deyha are mercenaries rather than loyal followers of the Sugun; that's at least one useful tidbit.

"Gotcha. Money and Water." Inks nodded once. "Do your Deyha hire out of Cahzor?"

Now Nabijah looked interested. "Maybe," she drawled. "Where to? And what's the pay?"

"Oh, anywhere around the Firepeak Pave. I don't have anything in mind just yet, but I was curious. As for pay..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I think we agreed Frugal Merchant works on Services, so Inks will use it on the Deyha here as an example- how much would their time/skill be worth?)  
> ST: ((This group of five youths would be worth high-end Res 3 - Inks can tell that despite their youth, they're brutal heavy cavalry units who can probably tear through a normal human mercenary company with ease - especially Nabijah, who Inks can sense is worth rather more than the others. She gets the sense they're pretty poor in having to share hyenas and having poor-quality gear - if all of them were mounted and Nabijah brought a few more friends, they would easily be a Res 4 crack mercenary force whose small numbers were made up for by sheer stopping power.))  
> ST: ((That's per month, incidentally.))  
> 

  
  
Keeping things light, Inks quoted a rough figure- equal to their actual worth but in her mind, she was more than willing to pay a bit more for their loyalty. "Per month- I might add. And if anyone tells you otherwise, don't take their deal. You really are worth it as a crack heavy calvary unit."

"So I think the deal is this- You're my ally here in Cazhor- at least among your peers, and I'll work on my end to set up a trade route that either comes here or goes to some neutral ground you can send your people to- Food, quality tools, possibly even weapons. And I haven't forgotten you want water."

"My caravan and I get safe passage out of here- I'll pay for that with my wares on hand, so you get a pile of treasure to show that you're a clever badass, and we get to go home and make more money for all of us. How does that sound?"

Nabijah had looked interested at the start, but Inks' stomach dropped as her expression twisted into something ugly and contemptuous halfway through.  
"Boring as fuck," she spat. "Me'n'my girls need to fight, not sit around on our rears and get fat. Why would I care about trade?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks notes that the 4-dot Principle from earlier is "Blood Myself" - Nabijah wants to prove herself in combat, to raid and fight and prove herself a savage warrior and get respect that way. She recalls Pipera mentioning that the deyha are an exceptionally aggressive culture - violence is normalised for them at every level of their society.))  
> ST: ((She was interested in Inks hiring her and outfitting her to go kill her enemies for her, but she's a young hothead and the promise a lucrative peaceful trade deal doesn't interest her at all.))  
> Inks: (gotcha)  
> 

  
  
"Because when you're rich, people want to take your stuff. You wanted to take mine, after all." Inks crossed her arms over her chest with a frown. "I don't have any enemies I want to set you against right now- so trade's a good thing to do when you're not fighting. A rich mercenary has the time to train, to get better at their craft and then crush their opponents in bloody combat."

"And once it becomes clear you're the first in line to ally with me and mine, your rivals are going to be pissed. They're going to come at you with everything they've got because you did the smart thing and changed the game. Every day they go without matching your move is another day you'd get further ahead. Trade is treasure, treasure is power, and if you're willing to wait a little while, you'll have all the fighting you can stand."

"So does that sound more to your liking? You and yours getting richer, tougher, and stronger? Even if it starts with 'boring trade'?"

Nabijah's big, flat face screwed up in distaste. She seemed to be wrestling with something that was making her increasingly angry.

"It won't work while she's here," Pipera's voice whispered into Inks' ear. "She must be a much younger daughter - I remember hearing that Raiah Laughing-Steel was legendary for how many she had. If she gains any ongoing wealth or power here beyond a quick score, her sisters will just beat her down and take it. She and her friends aren't strong enough to stop them, but she doesn't want to admit that."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Pipera's input allows Inks to deduce that Nabijah has Valour 3+ - she doesn't want to admit weakness, but she knows that her group is too weak to hold onto any economic advantage here long-term.))  
> Inks: (hmmm)  
> ST: ((Inks thinks she's probably only 15 or so.))  
> ST: ((This is probably why she's looking for easy marks out between towns in the first place. :P))  
> Inks: (I getcha)  
> Inks: (Hmm... This is a tough one. Having fun though!)  
> ST: ((You can poll Pipera for ideas, if you can think of a way to get some space to talk. :P))  
> 

  
  
Taking a moment to measure Nabijah up once more, Inks considered her options and reconsidered her approach. Proud, eager to prove herself... "I think I understand the you now. A bit better at least. I'd like to talk with my crew for a moment. We can't really outrun you, so there's no harm in giving us some space to talk."  
  


>   
> Inks: (the problem,not 'you)  
> ST: ((Cha+Pres, MDV 3))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +1 "2m 2nd excellency); Inks: [10, 3, 8, 5, 3, 7, 7, 3] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Nabijah shrugged. "Whatever. You've got till I get bored." Tugging on Muta's mane again, she led her hyena off to her friends still circling the caravan, saying a few low words to them in passing as she rode.

Signaling Vahti to keep watch, Inks walked around one of the wagons and waited for Pipera to join her. "I want to hug you so much right now." Inks whispered softly. "But later. I have an idea or two that might work, but do you have anything?"

"Hiring them would work," Pipera said. "They can't be trusted, but they can be hired. They're not human; you need to understand that. They're nepotistic, aggressive even by the standards of mercenary raiders, and they maintain their positions in the clan through violence. And any deyha outranks a human in their eyes. Even a penniless wretch gets more respect than the son of a clan leader. If she's so desperate for money and status, it's because she has too many older sisters taking up positions in the hierarchy above her - and that means she wants to get out of the city and prove herself elsewhere."

There was a shout from the circling ring. One of Nabijah's comrades was arguing with her - urging her to attack, if Inks had to guess from her motions. Nabijah's response was to shift her weight on Muta slightly and kick the girl full in the face, then nudge her partner into slamming the side of its blunt muzzle into the other girl's ribs as she staggered backwards. The impact knocked her off her feet entirely.

"... like I said," Pipera said. "Oh, and while it's less important right now; we need to be careful not to let the Jansi lords know we're here. The deyha won't care, but if the Sugun or the other Gens find out you're here, it won't end well for us."

"Gotcha. Okay. Hire them as private security. Use them to guard trade missions throughout Coxati and the Pave. Maybe Piercing Sun can help with a training camp or something... Idea for later." Walking back around the wagon, Inks let out a sharp whistle. "Nabijah. New deal. I'll hire you and yours as security for me and mine. You'll be guarding my trade caravans from raiders and competitors. When you're not protecting my assets, I'll arrange training for you and yours against powerful opponents. You'll have to come with me and leave Cahzor. What do you say?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cha+Pres, and this time you're working _with_ her Principles, yay, so it's just a matter of getting her to believe you can do it.))  
> Inks: !ex 14; Inks: [10, 4, 10, 1, 1, 9, 7, 6, 7, 4, 1, 8, 6, 7] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> 

  
  
Nabijah wheeled Muta around to look at her, considered for a moment, and grinned. The girl on the floor wasn't so happy, and made a sound of protest. Grin flickering into a scowl, Nabijah slid off Muta for the first time, walked up to the girl as she picked herself up, and slammed a knee into her stomach.  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 10; ST: [5, 8, 3, 2, 10, 10, 1, 4, 6, 9] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [5, 3, 6, 3, 6, 4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

  
  
The resulting scuffle was short, brutal and entirely one-sided. Nabijah dominated the entire thing, hammering down on the slightly smaller girl until she gave in, then roughly pulling her up to her feet and pushing her away. Strangely, there didn't seem to be any resentment from the loser; just a grudging acceptance as Nabijah walked back over to Inks. Even on foot where Inks was mounted, her head was level with Inks' chest.

"Deal," she grunted, spitting into a hand and holding it out. "Where're we headed, then?"  
Inks took Nabijah's hand with a grin. "Gem!"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Aaaand roll Reputation 3 with a -2 external penalty from Nabijah not caring very much.))  
> Inks: !ex 3 -2; Inks: [1, 4, 5] was rolled for -2 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Ah well, as long as she's loyal to her paycheck I'm not gonna complain)  
> 

  
  
Nabijah grunted again, without much interest, and snapped out a few orders to her fellows before mounting back up. "We'll swing by our camp first, pick up our stuff," she told her new employer. "Then you wanna get through Cahzor without running into anyone else, right?"

"I think so yes." Inks grinned.

Somehow having come through the confrontation without vio- without _much_ violence, or any fighting between the two groups; Inks' caravan jerked haltingly into motion again; now led by a hyena-mounted deyha and trailed by two more. They proceeded along the vast, abandoned streets of mouldering stone towards whatever campsite the new hires had come from.

"What _happened_ to this place?" Ajjim asked softly, looking around at the faded remnants of ancient glory.

"Among many other things; Elemi Piercing Sun," Pipera replied; quiet enough that only he and Inks heard. "Which is why we don't want the Jansi finding out we're here. He was here for the battle that wiped out Cahzor's last true army in the last 590s, as well as every scheme to reclaim their status since, and I know for a fact that they curse his name still."

She glanced across at Inks. "It might be a good idea to tell our guides we want to keep a very low profile," she suggested. "Like I said; the deyha won't care, but I'd rather not see if word of his healing has spread this far."

Acknowledging the advice with a small nod, Inks astride Windroarer moved up to Nabijah and gave the order. "Keep us beneath notice." She made a point of donning the buff jacket she'd gotten from Xandia, pullig her hair out of the collar as well. "Once we're out of Cahzor we can move faster."

"I'll do my best, but we gotta go near the main camp to get my stuff," Nabijah shrugged. "Up here. Cahzor-Black-Hull."

Inks followed the deyha's gaze. They were riding down the banks of the old river; long since dried up. It was dusty; sand carried on the hot wind, and she could hear wailing, mournful pipes from the high places up ahead. In the near distance off to her right was a cacophonous armed encampment that covert glimpses told her was swarming with deyha raiders who'd stand taller even than Nabijah; head and shoulders above the slaves that tilled the gardens and flinched away from their brutal owners.

"Cahzor-Eastern-Sun-Temple," Pipera murmured to her. "It's the main deyha settlement. Raiah and her daughters will be in there somewhere, unless she's out on work for the Sugun. Best avoided."

Happily, their destination was a half mile or so away from the main camp. Nabijah's camp was an old rusted ship that lay at an angle on the riverbed; a small village having been set up within it. Pipera's look of distaste at the hopelessly unseaworthy state of the corroded vessel was cutting, but Inks was focused more on the shrines of strange gods she didn't recognise, the faded cloth of the inhabitants' garments, the scars and wounds on the villagers who cowered away from the looming hyenas.  
  


>   
> ST: ((And roooooooll Compassion!))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [3, 7, 5] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Thinking)  
> ST: ((Also roll Conviction, since lingering here is not getting back to Gem and setting up your merchant empire~))  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [10, 3, 9, 1, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Lolz.))  
> 

  
  
Her drives warred within, and Inks felt her resolve clash with pragmatism and idealism and a whole host of other feelings until they curdled up in a knotted mess... There was no way she could help these people- not now at least. She took a firm grip on her heart and forced the urge to help down, tempering it with reason.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Suppressing Compassion, staying on Conviction)  
> Inks: (...I don't think we ever pinned down Inks's primary virtue or her limit break)  
> ST: ((... we should probably do that at some point.))  
> Inks: (probably!)  
> ST: ((You can if you wish take a reflexive Wits+Occult roll regarding the statues at the shrines, at hidden Difficulty.))  
> Inks: (But fortunately I haven't suppressed virtues often enough)  
> Inks: !ex 5 +2; Inks: [4, 6, 6, 9, 9] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Inks' eye ran over the shrines as she waited for Nabijah and the others to gather up their... surprisingly meagre belongings, and instruct a villager to carry a message to her mother the next day. she didn't recognise most of them... well, that one was probably the city father from context, and there was another who cropped up all over the place. Inks leaned in to study one of the idols closer. A night-goddess of some sort - yes, a servant of Luna, going by the iconography.

Interesting.

Then Nabijah was back, her things packed and stowed - with a fair amount loaded onto the mules her two male companions rode, Inks noted - and they were setting off down through the city towards the desert.

Keeping her head on a swivel, Inks took in the sights. There was so much wonder here, things lost and possibly regained. She already had El-Galabi on her to-do list, especially considering Pipera's investment in eradicating the awful Dead. But seeing the ruins of the once-great city, and her lingering... nostalgia for it. Inks promised herself she'd be back some day.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Nabijah rolls Wits+Stealth+Backing to hustle everyone out of the city without getting held up by anyone asking awkward questions...))  
> ST: !ex 5; ST: [10, 4, 5, 8, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((And passes!))  
> Inks: (Huzzah!)  
> 

  
  
The sun was brutal on the potholed streets. Some effort had been made to fill in pits and repair the worst of the damage, but the crude skill of the patch jobs and the cobbled-together settlements among the geomantically-calculated designs of the huge structures they were squatting in only made the damage stand out more. Still, Inks thought. No wonder that night-goddess's shrine was everywhere. In a sun-baked place like this; night was a safer and cooler time. The inhabitants of Cahzor were probably barely active in the hottest times of the day - certainly, she saw relatively few people out and about even in the more populated areas.

... actually, she realized, her own group might be suffering that more than a bit too. Pesala had long since retreated into the shade of one of the wagons, and there was a definite general air of weariness from her men. She hadn't noticed; her jewel immunizing her from any hazard of sun or heat.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Are we still in cahzor?)  
> ST: ((Coming up to leaving it - no problems getting stopped, but sun-weariness is afflicting some of Inks' caravan members.))  
> Inks: (Per+Surv for a good camp)  
> Inks: !ex 11; Inks: [5, 6, 2, 9, 7, 6, 8, 8, 2, 9, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
Casting about for a good place to camp, Inks read the valley walls and the approaching foothills with an experienced eye, humming softly.  
  


>   
> ST: ((You're going to camp in Cahzor, or push on until you're out of the city and then rest?))  
> Inks: (Push out of the city, I think, but looking ahead for a good spot)  
> ST: ((Cool. Heh. Wasn't looking forward to the series of rolls I'd have to prompt if you'd stayed and then moved the rest of the way out of city in the evening when there were more people out and about.))  
> Inks: (You've made it abundantly clear that Cahzor isn't safe and I was woefully unprepared for it)  
> Inks: (fun though!)  
> 

  
  
As they passed out through Cahzor-on-the-Sand-Shore with only minimal difficulties; resolved by two snarling hyenas and a giant tiger staring down the guards who wanted to "inspect" the wagon for "taxed goods", Inks took over from Nabijah to lead them south for an hour or two, sticking close to the foothills until the curve of one of them put Cahzor out of sight. There was a neat natural lee she'd seen from higher up in the valley earlier in the afternoon that would make for a good place to camp and rest without being bothered by Cahzorite patrols poking their nose into her business for the night.

"Whew. Take it easy ladies and gentlemen. We're almost finished!" There was a small logistical issue to solve, which she addressed by ordering her new mercenaries to go hunting while she prepared the camp and cookfire. Maji she kept close by, idly scratching his brow while she tended the fires.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I'm sending the Deyha to hunt, instead of Maji, it's a good test if they'll hold to their contract.)  
> Inks: (assuming they succeed, the plan is to cook a good meal and earn some goodwill)  
> 

  
  
Pipera sat down beside her, lips pursed, expression tense. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked quietly. "From what I know of them, they can be hired, but not trusted. And they won't ever respect you - not if you treat them like most of your employees. Kindness isn't worthy of merit to their kind. You've seen how they interact with each other."

"Yeah I'm worried about that, but I don't know how to apply my strength against theirs." Inks admitted. "I was thinking of making a game of it, challenging Nabijah to a spar or something. She'd probably get a kick out of Chronicle. Hell, I think she'd respect me more even if I lost, right?"

Pipera shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. I always tried to avoid them and deal with the Jansi directly instead of their hired thugs. I've never met Raiah in person at all, for all her legendary status." She pauses. "Honestly, _because_ of it. Her eldest daughter was more than enough."

Inks stretched and limbered up. "Well, so long as she doesn't kill me I'll be fine. A spar sounds fun to be honest."

"I hope you're right," Pipera said softly, looking out into the dust of the sunset's glow.  
  


>   
> Inks: Works!  
> Inks: This is definitely an interesting challenge  
> ST: Next session will be arriving back at Gem, and we can lead off with a spar if you like.  
> Inks: Neat  
> Inks: Not Sun Over Water? No worries either way  
> ST: Anyway, yes, you enjoyed?  
> Inks: Yes!  
> ST: Yeah, that's what I mean. Spar at Sun Under Water, then arrival at Gem.  
> ST: And cool.  
> Inks: I if had any critique it was that yesterday's half of the session was exposition-heaven, and I didn't have a lot of opportunity to interact with Hunter or the big Cahzor infodumps  
> Inks: but at the same time it was anice, relaxing session  
> ST: 5xp + 1mxp + 3 Sxp.  
> Inks: huzzah!  
> Inks: anyway, was great fun as usual!  
> Inks: Were you pleased that I tried to defuse the fight?  
> ST: I'm both pleased that you tried  
> ST: and also mildly robbed that you succeeded  
> ST: : P  
> Inks: yeah, but!  
> Inks: BUT  
> Inks: Here's the super-important thing I want to underline  
> Inks: It felt FAIR  
> Inks: I never felt like I was being railroaded  
> Inks: Pipera was a good safety net  
> Inks: Nabijah came off clearly as a Personality that I can game, I just don't know how yet- better to say I don;t think Inks has the stats for it yet, but maybe the spar will help.  
> ST: ^_^  
> Inks: but yeah I so wish I had Knowing the Sul's Price now  
> Inks: I also am pleased that like... I'm in trouble?  
> Inks: but it's the Fn kind of trouble, I have attached a volatile potentially dangerous asset to myself and I have to figure out how to defuse it  
> ST: indeed  
> ST: also lol  
> ST: almost any other Solar  
> ST: would have been more or less fine in Cahzor  
> ST: but Inks is the one who healed the Dragon of the Burning Sands  
> ST: : P  
> ST: (it is possible that there is a major polity within several hundred miles of Gem where Piercing Sun's name is _not_ cursed to the heavens)  
> ST: (for example: there may be some that he conquered and set up proxy governments that are among Gem's cronies in which haven't undergone another coup yet)  
> 

  
  



	38. Session 38: Nabijah: Bronze-Breaker

  
  


>   
> ST: First off, before we get started, remind me. Was Inks going to learn a bunch of stuff en route home?  
> Inks: Since our discussion, I don't think I _need to_ now, since I can cast skin of bronze with a certain degree of 'Won't get ganked'  
> ST: Right. Well, it'll be nine days to Sun Under Water - or five, since Inks is around and it's only a hundred miles, lol.  
> Inks: ...oh man, this is gonna end the Coxati Arc, probably. This is gonna be great.  
> ST: Will she wait until then?  
> ST: And yyyyyup  
> Inks: Hmmm... Okay so my understanding was that the group gets to Sun Under Water, and I was thinking that Inks would challenge Nabijah at some point near there than 'Earlier'. Unless a roll would tell me to challenge Nabijah sooner.  
> Inks: So... yeah, wait until we reach Sun Under Water. And then fite fite fite fite  
> ST: I'm basically asking whether you want to have this dramatic setpiece in town or out in the wild yonder.  
> ST: cool  
> ST: THEN IN THAT CASE  
> Inks: I was assuming outskirts, basically, but yes!  
> 

* * *

Sun Under Water was largely as Inks remembered it. The little town huddled around a small fort, built of honey-brown stone. Its interior courtyard was open to the heavens, allowing the sunlight to strike the pool and turn its bed a beautiful glinting gold. Few were allowed in, of course - though Inks was one of those lucky few - and the town without clung to the fort's petticoats before trailing off westward into the lee and shade of the   
nearby foothills.

The Firepeaks were an unmissable presence to the small group's right as they approached the town; a yeddim-drawn sandship preceding them by a couple of miles.  
  


>   
> Inks: (typans)  
> Inks: (oh hai husbando)  
> ST: (Few months too early for him; he generally comes around Crowning Water)  
> Inks: (Ah well, was a funny thought)  
> ST: ((If it had been within a month I'd have given it to you. :P))  
> 

After five days travel, Inks had taken Nabijah and her Deyha's measure. Just outside the fort and caravanissary, the earth and sand was packed flat by centuries of man and beast upon it. The air was clear and the wind was hot, tugging at the silk of her dress. Stalking across the rough trail, Inks whistled. "Nabijah!"

Maji was at her side, padding along with heavy, muscular steps. Trailing up behind her was Vahti and Pipera, though Inks was sure Pesala and Ajjim were watching from a bit further away. "I think you and I need to settle some things!" Stopping some distance from the Deyha pack, Inks raised her hands and worked her will upon the world.

While her anima still rested, none could mistake the surge of Essence and magic as it picked up grains of sand and caught the sun in thick beams. Maji glowed, roaring before vanishing in a burst of light and sound. Inks's skin darkened, the lines of her tattoo sinking into her skin and looking more like a sculpture's mould lines than paint and flesh...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Inks is Casting Skin of Bronze. Simple Speed 6, DV -2, I cannot take any reflexive actions until the Cast Action).  
> Inks: (Other than anima powers)  
> ST: ((Aaaaand roll Join Battle, simultaneous with your cast.))  
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((yeah, go ahead))  
> ST: ((2 dots))  
> ST: ((dice))  
> ST: ((things))  
> Inks: (Heh, okay, wits 2 awa 1, +2 style dice, +2 stunt... I'm gonna channel my last Conviction channel before story refresh for 5 more d... I'm Guessing that I can't use an Excellency either, so that'll be it)  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [4, 10, 2, 6, 4, 4, 2, 10, 1, 6, 5, 7] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (that's actually not bad)  
> ST: !ex 6 ST: [5, 5, 1, 3, 3, 2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Lol))  
> ST: ((Kinda wasted that channel.))  
> Inks: (Eh, they'll come back)  
> 

Nabijah had been plodding along on Muta's back, and seemed completely taken by surprise by Inks' sudden announcement. She looked over in bewilderment, trying to catch up with what Inks meant.

>   
> ST: ((If you have any scene longs you want to activate or similar, now is a perfect time.))  
> Inks: (Just graceful crane stance, since I have first action anyway)  
> ST: ((Indeed. You act on Tick 1, she acts on Tick 5.))  
> ST: ((Banter is allowed. :P))  
> 

The shaping complete, Inks stood now as a bronze statue, arms crossed over her chest while the silk of her gown fluttered in the hot air. "This is a challenge!" she grinned at Nabijah's surprise. "For respect, the proper order of things. After all, how many Deyha get to blood themselves against a sorcerer!"

Sun Over Water was surrounded by small ruins, slumping walls that had been co-opted into market stalls and long term storage. Hopping on impossibly light feet, Inks sat down on one so she was eye level with the hyena-woman, crossing her legs and leaning forward just so. "Unless I'm too hard for you to bother with now. hmm?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Move action to sit on the stunted pillars, Guard or Misc Banter action for Nabijah to respond to.)  
> 

Nabijah blinked for a second longer, before her face cleared up into a scowl. But... possibly a happy scowl? Inks hadn't quite got the hang of her expressions yet. Regardless, she slid off Muta's back and drew her sword.

"/Now?/" she complained. "After all day walking, you want _now_ to pick a fight? Urgh, fine, I'll show you what a proper beatdown looks like, then we can go eat."  
A sharp whistle had Muta settling into a tense crouch, padding up beside her, and the scowl turned into a grin. "Hey, but if you get your tiger's help, I get Muta's, yeah?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Nabijah is making the case that if Inks gets to buff herself with _her_ familiar, Nabijah should be allowed the help of her own. :P))  
> ST: ((Hang on while I roll...)) ST: !ex 5; ST: [1, 6, 5, 2, 7] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((She is not convincing enough to bow Inks under the weight of her impeccable logic.))  
> Inks: (Even so!)  
> 

"I'm technically _wearing_ Maji, but I would be happy to take you both on!" Inks hopped off the pillar with a laugh, stalking around with a hip-swaying strut.

>   
> Inks: (Inks allows it anyway because she's feeling confident. This is honestly a win-win for me. Even if I lose, I earn more respect by trying)  
> Inks: (so did Nabijah take a misc action to draw her sword?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, that was a Ready Weapon action.))  
> ST: ((Muta is Guarding.))  
> Inks: (Alright, actually uh... Okay, I was tick 0, if we count my banter as speed 5 misc, we're now on the same tick. She readies her weapon which is also speed 5 dv-1, no need to guard, nabijah is now on tick 10 and I'm still on tick 5. I choose _not_ to draw Chronicle yet.)  
> Inks: (Muta is... on tick 5 through 8 and can unguard any time)  
> ST: ((Cool. What will Inks be doing? Making the first move, or waiting for one of them to?))  
> Inks: (The latter, I have a plan~)  
> 

Playing the waiting game, Inks stretched, the metal of her body singing in the sunlight. She laced her fingers together high over head and rolled her neck. "Ahh, haven't used this spell in a while..."

Narrowing her eyes, Nabijah whistled again, high and cutting. "Muta!" she barked. "Hurt!"

The giant hyena - as massive as Windroarer and not that far behind Maji himself - lunged.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, tick 8, Muta is making a Bite attack.))  
> Inks: (Alright)  
> ST: ((Inks declares her response.))  
> 

On the one hand she'd hoped for Nabijah to make the first move, but needs as must... Inks spun neatly on one heel, steps lighter than her skin would suggest. In that same spin she reached into nothing and slammed a wall of golden metal into the ground between her and Muta's snapping jaws! The impact pushed up the ground in a spiderweb mound of cracks, throwing dust into the air!

>   
> Inks: (Call the Blade in Step 2 to draw Chronicle for a Parry, PDV is 7 before stunt, and you prefer we roll stunts right?)  
> Inks: ((Correction, PDV 5 before stunt)  
> ST: ((Hang on. We're 10-stepping this, RAW 2e style. So, you use Call the Blade. Attack roll.))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [1, 2, 8, 8, 6, 5] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((And PDV stops that cold even without a stunt, but roll it anyway.))  
> Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [10, 2] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (I was effectively guarding, so I can act against Muta now if I want... Writans my attack on tick 8  
> 

One second there was nothing. The next, a solid wall of shining orichalcum. Chronicle's appearance took Muta completely by surprise, and the hyena's bulk crashed into its wide blade shoulder-first and bounced off to the side.

The sword barely even shifted from the impact. Safe behind it, Inks didn't feel a thing.  
  


>   
> Inks: (How far away is Inks from Nabijah?)  
> ST: ((They were traveling in a loose group, so we'll say five yards.))  
> Inks: (Got it, would have to dash + attack if I wanted to hit her, I'll go with Muta instead.  
> 

Pulling Chronicle free of the dust and broken earth, Inks twirlled it with a two-handed grip, staring at Nabijah with a level look that belied the weapons' bulk and heft. Spinning neatly in place, Inks stepped into her swing that brought the flat of the blade down on Muta's shoulder!

>   
> Inks: (Pulled blow against Muta, since (is Muta a gal?) Inks doesn't want to _kill_ anyone. )  
> Inks: (so that's combat pool of 8d, -1 for called shot. Muta's response in step 2?)  
> ST: ((Muta is indeed a bitch, and will be trying to dodge at -1 from bouncing off Chronicle. Roll attack pool against DDV 2.))  
> Inks: (stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 10 -1 "Step 3 attack roll"; Inks: [6, 2, 2, 3, 8, 10, 4, 1, 6, 3] was rolled for 2 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Miss!)  
> 

The hyena managed to throw herself to the side just in time for the sheet of metal to slam down on the ground, sending a cloud of dust billowing up around them both that stung the eyes and nostrils. In the hot, dry air, devoid of any wind, it would take a while to settle.

>   
> Inks: (so I act on tick 12 with Muta, and Nabjiah is on tick 10. Wat do?)  
> ST: ((3-yard wide dust cloud created; -2 to visibility through it, it'll last a minute or so.))  
> Inks: (+1 ST xp!)  
> ST: ((??))  
> Inks: (you did an awesome thing and I want to see more of it)  
> ST: ((:D))  
> ST: ((Per+Awa to check out what Nabijah is doing, -2 internal penalty from the dust cloud.))  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [8, 7, 10, 9, 9] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

Through the dust, Inks could see Nabijah gaping at the sudden appearance of her mighty sword. She obviously hadn't expected anything like this. Behind her, Pesala was cheering, evidently overjoyed to see Inks' power in the fight.

>   
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [5, 4, 1, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Ho hum))  
> Inks: (failed a valor check?)  
> 

As Inks watched, Nabijah actually took a step back at the sheer scale of Chronicle and the evident force it had slammed down with. But then she rallied, face twisting into something between a snarl and a savage grin.

"Maybe you _are_ worth fighting, lady!" she yelled, and charged.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, Nabijah is flurrying a Dash action and a sword attack directly towards Inks through the dust cloud. Muta is supporting her with another bite from Inks' left. They're not coordinating actions properly, so no Onslaught penalties.))  
> Inks: (Question- this is still tick 10 right, for Nabijah? Because Muta and I acted on tick 8, so Muta technically can't act?)  
> Inks: (I mean if you say otherwise I'm game, just clarifing)  
> ST: ((No, she's acting on tick 12 - she lost a few ticks from shock.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so we're all acting on tick 12 then)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (Note for the future, explain the tick loss earlier please~)  
> ST: (('pologies))  
> 

"Beat her ass!" Vahti cheered from the sidelines, as well as Pesala's own shrill, girlish squeal of delight. Pipera and Ajjim both were far more stoic, sighing against the din of combat and shameless posturing. The Deyha had circled around the combatants as well, howling and yipping for their leader- to win or fall, Inks couldn't tell.  
Beset on both sides, Inks smiled despite herself and the odds. "Oh this is gonna be fun!"

Chronicle was large enough that Inks could swing it in a loose arc that beat aside both Muta's slavering jaws and put itself in place to beat Nabijah's charge- against the latter Inks planted the blade again in the ground with a shout!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Parry and Parry, PDV 4 against both attacks, then I will stunt my attack)  
> Inks: (step 3, attack roll)  
> ST: ((Okay, so Nabijah is rolling at -3 for her attack, the Dash having been -2 from flurry penalties.))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [1, 9, 1, 9, 4, 7, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (Just barely blocked!)  
> Inks: (but whew, 10d attack pool? Serious stuff)  
> ST: ((Close, but no cigar. And then Muta is rolling her own attack again.))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [4, 4, 3, 4, 6, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((goddamn, Muta, get your head in the game.))  
> ST: ((Oh wait, hmm. Well, no, I'll let you have that one. But I should have had Nabijah stunt.))  
> Inks: (No go for it)  
> Inks: (give her the dice and see what happens)  
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Alas.))  
> Inks: (alas)  
> 

Nabijah's chopping sword came in at frightening speed in a scything cut from the upper right that _almost_ made it past Inks' guard, failing only barely as she pivoted to keep Chronicle between herself and Nabijah's sword-edge. Muta, meanwhile - eyes no doubt watering from the dust and still spooked from her near miss - had her path diverted just enough by Inks' warning swipe to miss her entirely and skid out of the dust on her right.

One bronze-gold statue, hands on the haft of a sword as large as her. A brutish girl whose bulk outmassed her by half as much again, rearing back with chopping sword in hand. An enormous hyena, teeth bared, muscles moving like water under her thick hide, digging her front paws into the ground to slow down and turn around.  
And billowing out around them, the dust cloud, highlighted by the sun to make a corona of dirty gold and sparkling microparticles.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Nabijah is right in front of Inks, Muta is 2 yards off to her right.))  
> 

With a toothy, feral grin of bronzed teeth and a shout, Inks wrenched her weapon from the ground and twirled- she moved fast, fast enough to hop up onto Muta and stand on the hyena for the two steps necessary to swing overhead and down onto Nabijah's arm and shoulder. The blade blocked the sun, and Nabijah fell into almost complete shadow- only her eyes were visible in the gloom.

>   
> Inks: (Stunted a Move + Attack using Graceful Crane to 'move' across Muta as a platform, and then a single pulled blow attack on Nabijah. Does the elevation clear the dust cloud?)  
> ST: ((What's Inks' Move distance?))  
> Inks: (or just a good stunt bonus, fine with either/both!)  
> Inks: (2 yards presently, but Chroncile has the Reach Tag)  
> ST: ((So she can move up _onto_ Muta, but not across her without Dashing. You're intending for her to get enough range to properly swing Chronicle, yeah? And be cheeky by doing it from Muta's back.))  
> Inks: (Correct re: cheeky from Muta's back)  
> Inks: (I can take the dash hit if I have to, but if I don't, no worries!)  
> ST: ((Cool. Okay, that's viable. Muta's back elevation with Inks standing does indeed clear the dust cloud; head and shoulders. Nabijah will...))  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [3, 10, 10, 7] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((Try to parry.))  
> ST: ((Attack roll!))  
> Inks: (Alright, dex 2 melee 3 +3 style, stunt bonus? I'll throw an excellency on as well for +5d, I've spent... 18m so far this whole fight, counting Skin; -1 for Pulled Blow)  
> Inks: !ex 13 -1 "before stunt dice"; Inks: [4, 8, 10, 3, 7, 3, 6, 7, 8, 3, 5, 10, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: !ex 2; ST: [6, 4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Against Parry DV 4, you succeed with a threshold of 4! First actual hit of the fight, yeesh.))  
> Inks: (Alright, 4 + str 3 + damage 12 = 19 bashing that halves armor soak;)  
> ST: ((Calculate raw damage and subtract her soak; 5L/9B))  
> ST: ((Ah.))  
> ST: ((In that case, -5B soak.))  
> Inks: (so 14 post soak damage?)  
> Inks: !ex 14; Inks: [5, 5, 10, 6, 5, 9, 2, 4, 6, 2, 4, 10, 5, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (3 HLs of bashing damage)  
> Inks: (So this triggers Knockdown/Knockback as well, 19 Raw Damage is greater than Nabijah's Sta+Resist)  
> 

Inks rose head and shoulders over the top of the dust cloud as she stood and span on Muta's back. The hyena bucked, trying to throw her off, but Inks' balance was perfect as she brought the blunt edge of Chronicle down on the teenage deyha with terrible force.

Credit where credit was due; Nabijah met her fearlessly and in full; bracing her chopping sword for a deflection-parry. Perhaps she thought the enormous weapon couldn't possibly be that heavy if a woman as small and frail as Inks could heft it. Perhaps she just didn't care. Either way, she underestimated the strength behind the blow. Her arms buckled, and the impact slammed her to the ground with a thud that resonated through the ground and added another burst to the dust cloud.  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [9, 1, 8, 2] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

"Bitch!" Inks heard her wheeze. "Muta! Hold!"

>   
> ST: ((Okay, so it's now Tick... 16? What Speed is Chronicle?))  
> Inks: (5)  
> Inks: (Technically though we shouldn't skip ahead so many ticks, each tick we can choose to move around [Dex] yards if need be)  
> ST: ((Ah yes, that's the reset time before you can attack again, not the time the attack took.))  
> ST: ((Okay, Tick 13, Nabijah is prone and wheezing out a new command, Muta is still unsuccessfully trying to buck Inks off without understanding what Graceful Crane Stance is. What's Inks doing?))  
> Inks: (believe me for years I did it the 'time the attack took' way)  
> Inks: (Inks hops off Muta stays witin 2 yards of the pair until her next action unless acted upon)  
> ST: ((Okay, Rising from Prone is a Misc action that'll occupy Nabijah at -1DV until tick 17, so once again MUTA CARRIES THE DAY. Her last action was tick 12, so on Tick 16 she finishes wheeling around and goes for a grapple. With her teeth. Her intent is to latch onto Inks and hold her in place and not let go.))  
> 

Moving neatly to the side, Inks cocked her head while she pushed Chronicle into Muta's path. "Hey, Muta! Good move!"

>   
> Inks: (...Friendship with Animals Technique, and PDV 4)  
> ST: ((I was wondering when you were going to think to try FWA on Muta. :P))  
> 

Though Muta hesitated, she didn't stop. Bone-crushing jaws gaped wide as she pounced past where Chronicle was planted and tossed her head sideways, aiming to close those vicious teeth on Inks' right arm.

>   
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 4, 10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((muta srsly wtf))  
> ST: ((y r u failing so much))  
> ST: ((Will Inks retaliate?))  
> Inks: (I can act again on tick 21 correct? Until then I'll just keep circling, but banter!)  
> 

Inks pulled away from the gnashing bite, her normal compassion shining through. "I wouldn't bite me too hard, Muta- I'd have to help regrow your teeth afterwards and I'm sure that'd be an awful, awful experience for everyone!"

Nabijah struggled to her feet, teeth bared and furious. She whistled - long and low - and Muta broke off her fruitless attempts at catching the devilishly tricky statue-lady and returned to her mistress's side. Slashing her sword through the air, Nabijah tested out her range of motion and winced, then scowled at Inks. Her lips pulled back far enough that Inks could see her sharp, overlong canines, and a growl rumbled low in her throat.

The acrid scent of dust and sweat filled the air. Muta's mouth lolled open, her pink tongue hanging out as she panted lightly. Reaching over, Nabijah fisted a hand in the ruff on the back of her neck and spoke a few guttural words that had Pipera raising an eyebrow..  
  


>   
> ST: ((Nabijah and Muta are taking a Coordinate Action... uh, action; Tick 17-22.))  
> Inks: (So Nabijah rolls cha + war at [# of members /2], and if she succeeds, Inks takes a DV penalty = to threshold successes from all attackers on the 'same tick' as the coordination'. Inks is.. acting on tick 21, so Instead of attacking, I will....)  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [10, 4, 10, 7, 2, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((... Nabijah is very, very good at coordinating, apparently.))  
> Inks: (apparently)  
> 

Standing tall in the cloud of dust, Inks spun Chronicle to banish the obstruction. She hefted the blade with one hand- hardly a combat ready move- but she pointed the wide curving tip towards Nabijah and Muta. "So you can fight, or you can yield. I'm up for it either way. Do you think you're tough enough to take me down?"

>   
> Inks: (Misc/Social attack to convince Nabijah to yeild- will probably fail but Inks is a merciful sort)   
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll Cha+Pres. +2 die stunt from intimidation and Chronicle. MDV 3, boosted to 7 by VALOUR 4.))  
> Inks: !ex 16 "7d +7d +2stunt"; Inks: [2, 10, 6, 7, 9, 1, 10, 10, 5, 4, 7, 10, 4, 6, 7, 6] was rolled for 12 successes.  
> Inks: (28m spent so far)  
> ST: ((Ho hum. That got through. Will she yield?))  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [3, 7, 5, 3] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (NOPE!)  
> ST: ((... no, she will not. Nabijah spends 1wp to throw off Inks suggestion.))  
> Inks: (come at me, sis)  
> Inks: (So I'll count that as my action, I now act on tick 26. Nabijah and Muta COORDINATE and swing on Nabijah's tick, taking my DV down by -2 for each of their attacks)  
> 

For a moment Nabijah almost faltered. She looked like she'd worked out that she was not the dominant alpha bitch of this fight that she'd thought she was. But then - again - she rallied, baring her teeth and snarling.

"Fuck you, bitch!" she roared, and advanced - only this time, Inks could see that it was planned. Weighed down by her reinforced leather armour, Nabijah couldn't charge as quickly as Muta did, not without breaking into an all-out sprint as she had on her first attempt. But the hyena wasn't pulling ahead of her. She was keeping pace with her mistress, circling round to flank Inks and strike at the same time.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, things have moved around in the confusion, so they've got two yards to cross before getting within range. Nabijah's mobility penalties reduce her Move to 1, so they get within range and act on tick 24. Nabijah is going for a slash, while Muta tries another grapple.))  
> ST: ((Nabijah is at -1 wound penalty, however. Oh, hmm.))  
> ST: ((Does that reduce her Move to 0?))  
> Inks: (Minimum 1)  
> Inks: (and while there's no rule for it, I generally allow stunts to enhance movement rates)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (That being said, I haven't spent my move for this either.)  
> ST: ((So, ticks 22-24. What is Inks doing?))  
> 

Inks was a Nexian girl- she knew the score when it came to ganging up on someone- always be the gang, never the someone... Unless you were trying to prove a point. To do that, she stepped INTO the charge, bringing Chronicle to bear in a warding, two-handed slap against the longer-term dangerous foe of Muta. The parry fouled her charge, and in the same move Inks shoved Chronicle into Nabijah's screaming swing!

>   
> Inks: (Parry and Parry, PDV 2 against both attacks)  
> ST: ((Fun fun fun! She may regret this. On the other hand, _they_ may regret this if they beat her Parry and bounce off her skin.))  
> ST: ((Muta first, then, since she's trying to pin so that Nabijah can pummel.))  
> Inks: (yes! No guts no glory, that is the Exalted way!)  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: [7, 9, 5, 5, 4, 6, 10] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Aaaand Muta successfully gets Inks in a clinch, with 2 threshold successes!))  
> Inks: (Zing! That's a hit. Muta can immediately segue into a Hold, Crush or Throw. Crushing is sux + str + weapon Piercing damage, but Inks's soak is... au naturale?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Muta will be trying to Crush - that still holds the target inactive unless Inks gets control of the clinch, yes?))  
> Inks: (Correct)  
> Inks: (Now granted, Inks's pool for resisting this is garbage, so we'll see how this shakes out, but Inks is now 'Innactive' until Muta lets go.)  
> ST: ((Okay, so by _RAW_ , Inks doesn't get to resist control of the clinch until the next action. Personally, I think this is silly, since it means a 5-year old child can grapple the best wrestling-build Solar in Creation and hold him inactive for at least one DV refresh before he gently (or not-so-gently) removes her from clinging to his ankle and gnawing on it.))  
> Inks: (Sure, makes sense)  
> ST: ((So if she wants to resist with (Strength+Martial Arts) to beat Muta's score of 4 now, she can.))  
> Inks: !ex 3 "No stunt"; Inks: [6, 9, 6] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Not gonna happen just yet!)  
> ST: (( _sad trombone noises_ ))  
> Inks: (Now, all of Inks's soak is Natural, and she has 8L/8B Hardness too. So if Muta's pre-soak damage is 8 or less, it fizzles)  
> ST: ((Okay, so Muta's raw damage is 2 threshold + 10L NOM NOM NOM TEETH SHARP BONE CRUNCHY, to make 12L rolled.))  
> ST: ((This is taken down to 4L, so...))  
> Inks: (4L from what?)  
> Inks: (Inks's lethal soak is 7)  
> ST: ((Oh wait, I was reading Hardness as soak.))  
> ST: ((Right then. 5L, in that case?))  
> Inks: (Right, so Muta rolls 5d damage in step 8, 10s do not explode)  
> ST: !ex 5; ST: [10, 10, 2, 4, 4] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Alas, only 2.))  
> ST: ((Poor Muta.))  
> ST: ((The dice are teasing her.))  
> Inks: (Still puts Inks in the -1s. Nabijah's turn)  
> ST: ((Stunt first.))  
> Inks: (hers or mine?)  
> ST: ((Describing what happened.))  
> Inks: (k!)  
> 

But Muta had learned from her last failure. As Chronicle moved to slap her aside, she ducked low on her haunches, under the arc of the blade - and then sprang up to tackle Inks to the ground; jaws around Inks' upper arm. Though Inks tried to shake her off, the hyena's weight was too much - and Inks' own wasn't helping her right herself. Nabijah capitalised on her prone state to bring down a brutal blow across the bronze curves Inks's bust.

>   
> ST: ((Right, so. As Inks is in a clinch, she's inactive and can't apply her PDV against this attack.))  
> Inks: (Nabijah attacks against PDV 0, Inks's lethal soak is again 7L, hardness 8L.)  
> ST: ((So Nabijah rolls her pool of 10 plus 2 stunt.))  
> ST: !ex 12; ST: [4, 9, 7, 5, 4, 4, 8, 1, 6, 7, 6, 4] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((... Inks, be honest.))  
> ST: ((Did you bribe the dice fairies before this fight started?))  
> Inks: (No.)  
> ST: ((I said be honest. :P))  
> Inks: (I for a second was scared that was the damage roll though)  
> ST: ((Heh. Okay, so Nabijah does 4+9L=13L. This passes Hardness, and is reduced down to 6L by soak.))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [1, 1, 7, 6, 3, 10] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((Oh, hang on.))  
> ST: ((Twilight anima.))  
> Inks: (it's not running, hasn't been the whole fight)  
> ST: ((Ah yes, of course. So, Inks is now 5 health levels down and prone.))  
> ST: ((Probably a good time to either flare or surrender. :P))  
> Inks: (4 HLs down, due to 10s not counting as 2s)  
> Inks: (Muta did 2, Nabijah did 2, so Inks has 2 -2HLs and 1 -4 HL left.  
> ST: ((... yes, sorry.))  
> ST: ((My bad, didn't spot that 10.))  
> Inks: (Now, that being said, Inks is def in trouble, what with Muta having clinched her, and Prone putting her at -1 External Penalty until she rights herself iirc)  
> Inks: (What's Muta's pool to control the grapple?)  
> ST: ((10))  
> Inks: (Hmm... I'm going to attempt to break free, but if I fail, I'd segue into surrender. Clarifying- I can channel Survival for 5d, but does that influence my behavior at all?)  
> ST: ((It makes it Obvious you're scared for your life.))  
> ST: ((This may or may not spoil the attempt to get Nabijah to respect you compared to just surrendering without trying to break the clinch.))  
> Inks: (Good point)  
> 

The strikes hurt- but only distantly, the heart-pounding fury of battle, even a dominance display like this one had Inks's blood singing. Muta's teeth sank into her bronze skin despite all odds, and Nabijah's cleaving blow did nothing to compliment Inks's cleavage.

"Shit." Inks let out a gusty, rasping cough. "I think you got me!" She tensed against Muta's iron-jawed grip and sighed. "Yep. When time comes, I'm going to tell people you beat me righteously. Good fight!"  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Oh wait, no.))  
> ST: !ex 1; ST: [2] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((... ohhh dear.))  
> Inks: (Pff, Temperance/Compassion?)  
> ST: ((So, Nabijah just failed a Temperance roll.))  
> ST: ((And she's compassion 1, so... uh...))  
> Inks: (Yeah, she's gonna keep beating)  
> Inks: (Hmm...)  
> 

Nabijah did not seem impressed. Snarling wordlessly, she dropped her sword and punched Inks full in the face with all her strength.

>   
> Inks: (Ohoh! Good compromise!)  
> ST: ((Pool of 8.))  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [3, 1, 6, 3, 10, 5, 9, 3] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((And she does 3+4B damage, which sadly enough does not get through Inks' Hardness, soooo...))  
> Inks: (8B hardness, 12B bashing soak)  
> 

Inks heard bone break. It wasn't hers. Nabijah howled in a mixture of pain and rage as she drew her hand back with at least two broken fingers and slammed it into Inks' face again.

>   
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [5, 5, 6, 4, 2, 4, 3, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
> 

This time, the crunch made Inks' stomach turn. She could feel Muta's jaws beginning to tighten again...

... and then something blurred across her field of view and took Nabijah in a flying tackle, and a whinny and sharp crack dislodged Muta from her arm. Howls and yips and incoherent yells echoed across the sands as she lay there, slightly dazed and aching.

Inks's jaw worked, and she leaned up as best she could despite Muta's muffled gnashing. "Sonnova..." She looked at Muta. "Fight's over, you can keep gnawing if you want but I'm done." Looking up, she took in the spectacle before her...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh, I misread Muta being pulled off, sorry!)  
> 

Ajjim had evidently been the blur. He was holding a thrashing, howling Nabijah face-down in a pin that had both arms twisted up behind her and Ajjim's fingers around her throat. Windroarer had intervened to kick Muta off Inks, and the hyena was limping as she tried to get around the simhata to help her mistress.

"Th-thanks boys." Inks stood up on shaky limbs, smiling despite herself. Blood stained her teeth, but she grinned wide enough for the braying Dehya to see, as well as her own crew. "Nabijah won! You all saw it and I own that loss. I know where I stand with her and hopefully she knows it too." She picked Chronicle up and dragged it over to Ajjim and the thrashing Nabijah.

When Nabijah finally calmed down, Inks hunkered down next to her, Chronicle at hand but not drawn. Avoiding the honeyed tones she was known for, Inks spoke clearly and rough. "You took my challenge and you fought me damn hard and smart. I'd call you Nabijah Bronze-Breaker, if you'd let me. Are we good?"

Nabijah had stilled as she was speaking, and lay there for a moment longer. She thrashed twice more, testing her strength against Ajjim's hold to no avail.  
Then she grunted, and nodded into the dirt.

"We're good."

Nodding to Ajjim, Inks let out a pained sigh. "Let me know if you want me to treat those-" She nodded to the other woman's broken fingers. "I'm definitely bringing you girls to El Galabi, too."  
  


>   
> Inks: (While I'm here, Mastery of Small Manners)  
> ST: ((The other deyha wanted to see Nabijah win, and are pretty happy with that even though she then got beaten by a surprise tackle from Ajjim. Nabijah is satisfied with her win over Inks but is resenting Ajjim for shoving her face in the dirt and reminding her of her older sisters and mother. Ajjim wanted to make sure Inks didn't get killed and cut off the berserk hyena-woman before she went too far.))  
> ST: !ex 2; ST: [7, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

Ajjim let the girl up slowly, wary of her wheeling around and trying to punch _him_ as well. But though she snarled over her shoulder at him and shook his hand off her shoulder with an aggressive jerk, she kept her temper. Ignoring Inks' offer, she stalked over to her laughing friends, accepting their praise and congratulations. She'd heard it, though, and Inks was pretty sure she'd come back for the treatment once she'd assuaged her ego with adulation and reassured herself that her position as pack alpha wasn't at risk from having been seen helpless.

Moving over to Ajjim, Inks smiled and pulled him into a good-armed hug. "You're getting a bonus, thank you." Having said that, she turned to Pipera and Vahti, grinning despite her loss. "Ahh well, I accomplished pretty much everything I wanted to do! Feels good." She nodded to Pipera. "Arrange for lodgings at Sun Over Water, splurge a little for everyone, we've earned it, and then after that, Gem!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (So we're spending the night in Sun Over Water, as I assume it has a kind of 'stay overnight' economy for caravans/traders. I hesitate to say resort or hotel. Inks will be using Wound-Mending Care on herself, so she'll regain sux + [ess] HLs at the night.)  
> 

"Inks, Inks, Inks!" Pesala slammed into her leg with a metallic _thong_. "Are you okay, are you okay? You look hurt! Does it hurt?!"

"It hurts a little! Well no a lot. But I'm okay!" She proved it by reaching down and hefting Pesala up in her good arm and putting her on her shoulder. I'm made of tougher stuff than normal anyway, to say nothing of this bronze skin."

"Hey," came a grunt from behind her. Nabijah, apparently having satisfied herself. She cradled her hand and walked carefully, but stood tall and looked down at Inks. "I wanna look at your sword," she grunted. "Give it here."

A chill went through Inks, the memory of that savage sword-slash across her chest ricocheting back up from recent memory. Something small and scared and shrinking inside her screamed to do what the scary deyha said, or she'd be hurt again.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So!))  
> ST: ((Inks discovers that Nabijah has some sort of mental influence effect. She can roll a reflexive Wits+Occult at Diff 4 to try and pin down the feeling and identify it.))  
> 

The feeling came suddenly, faster and more powerful than even Inks could believe. Nothing was as harrowing as what her mother did to her years ago- and this was pretty close. She latched on to the memory of real fear, and in an instant compared it to Nabijah's swaggering intimidation...

>   
> Inks: (Stunted, wits 2 occult 3 +X stun, -2 Wound penalty. +5d from 1st occult for 8-10d)  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [7, 3, 7, 10, 7, 8, 6, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

It was the wound, she realized. Something about the wound - the mark of violence Nabijah had left on her - was lending her words weight. Yes, Inks would be willing to bet anyone she'd cut or scarred - or maimed or crippled - would experience this same effect, for as long as the marks remained there to remind them. Hah, she thought humourlessly. That must fit in _beautifully_ with the violent deyha culture she'd been born into. No doubt her friends all had a multitude of scars they'd picked up from her in dominance fights - and once they'd picked up one; winning future bouts would be harder.

Interesting, though. A power like this implied Nabijah was a little more than mortal. And Pipera had said that so many children as Raiah had was legendary for a deyha. Who - or perhaps a better question; _what_ \- had sired them, to grant her so many daughters?  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks determines that Nabijah's social attacks are UMI against anyone with a Crippling mark she's inflicted on them through violence - this doesn't have to be Crippling in the sense of disabling wounds; a small cut is enough as long as it lasts and forms a scar that won't fade or heal to nothing without anti-Crippling effects.))  
> Inks: (Neat. Handy stuff. I don't see the need to resist at the moment, because Inks can remove the scar, correct?)  
> ST: ((The fact that with an ability like this she was still at or near the bottom rung of her older deyha sisters implies that they probably have similarly potent abilities, though not necessarily identical ones.))  
> ST: ((Yeah, Inks is mean and cheaty and unfair because she can just heal it completely without a mark and Nabijah loses her power over her.))  
> ST: ((You'll note that if Inks _couldn't_ do that, Nabijah would have won this bout twice, because she'd then have UMI over Inks for all future disagreements.))  
> 

Wordlessly, Inks pulled Chronicle over with her bad arm, wincing at the tears and marks in her forearms- her _bone_ was exposed in place, , but she did not bleed as human would. "Here, it's called Chronicle."

Nabijah took it, and the blade immediately dropped to the sandy dirt with a crash, raising yet another dust cloud. Coughing and swearing, Nabijah hauled on the handle to no avail, then braced the elbow of her broken hand under the hilt and tried to lever it up that way.

No matter how much she heaved and strained; muscles bulging in her upper arms and face turning red with effort, the huge slab of orichalcum shifted only a little. Her best effort got the far end a few inches off the ground - and raised Inks' eyebrows - before it sagged back down again with a thud.

"The _fuck?_ " she asked the world at large. "What is this?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (We Mjolir now)  
> ST: ((we unattuned grand daiklave now. :P))  
> ST: ((honestly, the fact she could lift it a few inches is genuinely impressive.))  
> Inks: (is it Actually now unattuned or is Inks still attuned?)  
> ST: ((No, Inks is still fully attuned. She doesn't break attunement just from letting go of it, not unless something breaks her commitment like a special disarming Charm.))  
> Inks: (whew)  
> 

Inks called the weapon back to her hand- and it sailed through the air into her waiting palm, before she pushed it into the air itself. "It's a weapon from a prior age. A Grand Daiklave, made of Orichalcum. I got it from my mentor in a land far far east of here, in a city on the far side of the Inland Sea, behind the Imperial Mountain from here, give or take." She pointed at the huge mountain off in the distance.

"Huh," Nabijah grunted, not seeming very interested. She shoved her hand out. "You said you could fix this."

In the back of her mind, Inks felt Maji's irritated grumble. He'd been sulking ever since the first bite had penetrated her armour, and then sulking _more_ after she'd lost.

Now, apparently, Nabijah's attitude was adding a third, even grumpier level of yet more sulking.

He was going to be insufferable when she released the spell, she just knew he was.

Resisting the urge to shake her head at the intangible Maji, Inks instead nodded to Nabijah. "It'll hurt a little, but yes..." She took Nabijah's hands in hers, examining the injury with a careful eye for a few minutes. "Just be patient for a few minutes longer..."

Diagnosis complete, Inks moved without warning, setting the bones in a quick, decisive tug! From there she buoyed the woman's own robust health with her own Essence.

Finally, she ripped a strip of silk from her own gown, spotless and immaculate despite rolling around in the dust for over a minute. Ajjim had retrieved a bit of wood for a split, and together they helped set Nabijah's bones.

"Just keep this together for at least a few days, and it should heal just fine."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis, and then is Nabijah suffering from any Keyword injuries, or just Damage Levels? That will influence what Charms I use)  
> ST: ((Just damage levels.))  
> Inks: (Then wound-mending care technique, 12 -2d +stunt at Diff 1. She'll heal my threshold at end of day)  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [3, 7, 8, 6, 5, 1, 7, 5, 2, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (if she bedrests, that's another [Ess] HLs, but I bet she won't do that)  
> ST: ((Nice. And yeah, she won't. Happily, that will heal the worst of what she's got and leave her just a bit sore and achey from leftover Bashing.))  
> 

Nodding curtly, Nabijah turned and strode away, apparently done with the conversation.

"She's _rude_ ," Pesala opined, at a volume that the deyba almost certainly heard, but didn't visibly react to in the slightest. "Oh, oh! Inks, Inks! Are you going to do your doctor thing on yourself? Can you do it on yourself? Or do I gotta help you doctor yourself? I bet I can doctor you!"

Inks laughed despite the pain. "Ah, I can take care of myself, but you'd be a great help if you wanted to be. Let's take it easy for a bit though, I'm kind of exhausted."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, feel free to make the transition to Gem. Nabijah's general mood is a swaggering sort of confidence, but slightly more respect for Inks as someone who can fight - she's now a subordinate to Nabijah's instincts and an employer to her head, as opposed to prey/employer. Inks can guess/deduce that she's copying a lot of her mannerisms from how she's seen her mother acting around the Sugun, who likely occupies a similar position.))  
> Inks: (writans!)  
> 

After a night in Sun Over Water, where Vahti endeared herself yet again to the tavern crowds (and fortunately moderated herself a bit better), Inks took stock of both herself and her stock.

Treating her own wounds was an interesting challenge as always, but at the end, the only hint of Nabijah's cleaving slash was a thin and fading line that her tattoo almost completely swallowed up- and in a matter of days would be gone completely.

From there, the two groups rejoined the following morning- Nabijah swaggering with no small amount of pride, though Inks was sure she had to look twice at Inks's plunging neckline and the nearly absent wound. 

And Maji was indeed king sulk, though mollified by cuddles, attention and promises that Inks would train hard and do right by his grand majesty as glorious tiger-prince of the south.

With every passing hour, the caravan and guards neared Gem, up the foothills to see the Caldera and Rankar Peak. The traffic of porters, beasts of burden and the teeming masses entering and exiting Gem all reached total saturation as they arrived at the Scartoll.

Gem was not yet home, but Inks felt a familiar sort of relief as she returned to familiar grounds. Trusting Pipera to make arrangements for their Dehya cohort- lodging, food and so on. Inks saw to the porters and caravan laborers that had braved Coxati with her. She promised them payment, and released those who were not in her direct employ to draw their wages from the accounts in Gem.

Still somewhat winded from the journey, Inks hummed. Speak to Rankar, or sleep at home. Rankar... Home. Decisions decisions...

"I can take stock of our assets if you want to go straight home," Pipera offered, evidently reading her mind and she stopped by with an armful of papers. "In fact, please do, if only to get Pesala and the deyha out from under my feet and somewhere contained."

"Though if you do visit the Despot," she continued in a wind-carried whisper barely audible even when carried to Inks' ear, "please, _please_ do not mention every aspect of our trip to him. Remember what he forbade and don't get cocky with veiled references; the amusement would not be worth the consequences."

Nodding- so that Pipera would see it, Inks agreed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So let's go visit Rankar, or are you prompting me for something else?)  
> ST: ((Basically, up to Inks. She can go visit Rankar - though she's tired and at the end of a long journey - or she can go back home and meet the special session-closer there. :3))  
> Inks: (Ahh, I'll go home then!)  
> 

* * *

Left with just her primarily employees- and having paid for the Deyha to stay in a particularly rough-and-ready hostel, Inks, Pesala, Ajjim and Vahti all as one trooped their way through Gem's sun-baked streets. Things hadn't changed much- the sand in the corners piled higher and lower, some buildings had been torn down in place of new ones- not that anyone wanted to live above ground...

Until finally, Inks reached the handsome, artfully crafted main gate of her townhouse. Knocking once, twice, the staff inside pulled the beams aside and let their employeer slide the heavy barricades aside. "We're hooome~!"

Carla - how long it's been since Inks last saw her - greets her at the door with an overjoyed bow and... Inks has to take a few moments to get her to stop groveling. Urgh, she's backslid from the relatively easy formality Inks fostered while she was here. Well, no matter, Inks will have her back to normal soon.

She gives the low-down on what's been happening around the manor - Trasti Gion visiting nightly and being an uncomfortably aggressive flirt with certain members of the household staff; Carla included, Inks suspects, as well as a stranger who seemed to be lost and knocking on doors at random, as well as... 'Her'.

"Hellooo?" Two seasons, more? Things hadn't changed that much had they? Carla dutifully informed her of what was going on- and Inks did allow Tatters to stay as long as she liked... "There's 'stranger'? Someone who isn't Tatters?"

Carla can't give her much information on the stranger - he was gently turned away and redirected to the Red Stone district and Sahlak places of business - but Tatters, it transpires, has been using the same warded room Trasti Gion has been sleeping in. In fact, she's been sleeping it in too; during the day, on every day she's shown up at all. Several times a week without fail, ever since the middle of Fire - from the timings Carla gives, Inks suspects it's simply been every time she's had to sleep at all.

She is, conveniently, in there right now.

The room was warded against most senses, so knocking would not work. "Tatters? It's Inks- I'm back from Coxati...?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Ack, I derped- I was planning on opening the door and peeking in but forgot to write that)  
> 

The door swings open on an empty bed. For a moment Inks thinks Carla was mistaken; that Tatters gave her the slip. Then she spots the huddled, ragged figure curled up in the corner against the stone.

Dark-ringed eyes look up at her, cheeks stained red from tears, face dirty from not washing, the pallour of her skin even more unhealthy than usual.  
"He found me," whispers Tatters, not bothering with a greeting or a 'welcome back'. "He found me, and he's coming."

Hunkering down next to her, Inks gently reached out, but did not touch- not unless Tatters invited it. "Who found you? Who's coming?"

Tatters' face contorted in fear and shame and hatred. Inks smelt old blood on the air, and in the bitterness of her words as she spat them out, one by one.  
" _My master_."  
  


>   
> ST: End of session, end of Coxati arc.  
> Inks: Woo!  
> Inks: We dethlording soon?  
> ST: 4xp + 1mxp +3 Sxp, +10xp +5 Sxp end-of-arc rewards.  
> ST: : 3  
> ST: Well, next arc _is_ going to be Assault On El Galabi  
> Inks: kekekeke  
> Inks: Nice  
> ST: So I thought I'd bring things down to a more deathly pallour  
> ST: : D  
> Inks: Nice  
> Inks: good lord I have so many sorcery things to get too  
> Inks: so _next_ session I can ding Essence 4?  
> Inks: when I start hearing news of the trade network?  
> ST: Indeed!  
> Inks: What's the in-game date?  
> ST: 5th of Rising, so 7th by the time she got out of Moto, ten days to Cahzor, another five to Sun Under Water, another five to Gem... it is in fact the night before the new moon, the 27th of Rising Air!  
> 


	39. Session 39: Intriuge in Gem

" _My master_."

The words hung in the air, laden with enough bitterness to almost make Inks gag. Fear, shame, hatred, self-loathing... a myriad of ugly emotions play across Tatters' face; the veil absent for once in the dark and warded room.

The first thing Inks did was to hunker down next to Tatters and offer a hand- the woman was still touch-averse, so for the moment she just waited.

"Your master... I..." It wasn't that she was at a loss for words, so much as Inks was wracking her brain trying to think of the most effective question to start with. Sitting next to Tatters, she turned her mind to the task even as she seized on a basic query. "What is your master's name?"

Tatters shook her head minutely. "He hasn't one, anymore," she says. "But his title to those that know of him is a baron. The Baron of the Pale Gardens." She shudders as she says it.

"Baron it is.." Inks nodded. "Is he here in Gem, elsewhere..?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cha+Pres to get her to open up. Diff 1, with threshold successes dictating how much she says.))  
> Inks: !ex 12; Inks: [4, 7, 7, 8, 8, 5, 5, 2, 5, 7, 2, 10] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

  
  
Tatters is reticent at first, but Inks prods and wheedles and soothes, and manages to get her to open up a little.

The Baron of the Pale Gardens, she learns, is not in Gem. Indeed, he's from nowhere near Gem. In life, he was Tengese; a citizen of the three golden lands that lie west across the Firepeaks and hundreds of miles north along the Violet Coast - which in turn is the region where she suspects Tatters is from.

Whatever or whoever he once was is long gone, from the way Tatters describes him. What remains is soaked in death; a sin-eater who sits among the highest ranks of the Greater Dead and bears little resemblance to the human form anymore.

Ambitious, heartless and cunning, he rules a barony in the underworld not far from the City of Dead Flowers - which Tatters describes as the original Tengese capital; long since lost to the realms of death in the same way as E-Galabi. And apparently, among his servants he counts, or once counted, Tatters.

Of her service, and how she left it, she refuses to speak. How he came to find her here, many weeks travel even through the Underworld in a direction she left no trace of, she doesn't know.

Where exactly he is, and what he's after; Inks can tell she fears to guess.

Inks nodded, slowly. "Can you describe how he found you? Did a message arrive, a messenger?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm trying to figure out how she knows her Master has found her, like, what evidence)  
> 

  
  
Tatters' lips purse. "He... has ways of contacting me," she says. "He used them after I left, for a time, but eventually gave up. He knows I'm... he knows I wasn't killed; he's always known that. But he didn't know where I was, and eventually he tired of whispering to me." Something viciously _satisfied_ crosses her expression. "I would guess he was too occupied by the mess I left for him to clean up. I can't think how he knew I was here, unless... unless he's learned some means of tracking me."

It does not take great insight to see the dull horror on her face at that prospect. She can't stay in a warded room forever.

"Well... shit." Inks hummed. "The obvious idea is to figure out how to adapt a warding scheme to something you can wear... I feel safe in assuming this Baron is... Well I'd fight him. Not right this second!" Inks raised her hands with a smile. "But if he does awful things and his nature is such that he will always do awful things... correcting that is the right thing to do."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Tatters says, hunching into herself further. The wheeze of punctured lungs rattles in the air; something she'd half-forgotten in her time away. It's no less unsettling now than in memory. "You may have to. Whether or not he came here for me... he's an opportunist. When he sees a chance at power, he takes it."

"Well, hiding won't work for much longer- so if we have to fight, let's fight smart. I know more about demons than ghosts, so once I get settled back in Gem, I want you to give me a crash course in exorcism and the nature of the dead."

She stood up and stretched, offering Tatters a warm, encouraging smile. "I've got to meet the despot, check on my assets here in Gem... and then I think I've put El-Galabi off long enough,and Pipera really does not like the dead. I'm hoping to get on clearing out that Yidak lord..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Lore for a realization. Diff 1.))  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [1, 9, 1, 6, 4, 7, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (wow, but still a pass)  
> ST: ((It occurs to Inks that Tatters said her master was a "sin eater" - which she vaguely recognizes from her previous ghost-research as a type of ghost that eats other ghosts to gain power. And that he's a strong member of the Greater Dead. And an opportunist.))  
> ST: ((And the yidak lord in E-Galabi is very powerful, not very smart, and stationary.))  
> Inks: (Pff, set Baron against E-Galabi's yidak?)  
> ST: ((No; note that Tatters was _worried_ about it.))  
> Inks: (So the implication being that E-Galabi's yidak is _worse_ than Baron?)   
> ST: ((She's frightened that he's going to try to eat it, _win_ , and then all of that power will be in the hands of a _smart_ ghost with _ambition_ rather than a feral yidak that mostly just sits in its temple.))  
> Inks: (Oho!)  
> ST: ((It's higher-Enlightenment, at least.))  
> ST: ((He's a member of the Greater Dead - a strong 2CD. It's a weakish yidak lord, not a greater yidak - a 3CD equivalent.))  
> 

  
  
She trailed off, thinking about the logic of ghosts as she knew it and hummed. Better to get on cleansing El-Galabi before this Baron got any ideas. "But after some training with you and Piercing Sun. Is there anything you want or need? A home-cooked meal, a hug?"  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [8, 10, 3, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [9, 4, 2, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> 

  
  
"... there's something of mine that he has," Tatters says, slowly. Carefully. She's holding something back, the same way she did about her time spent serving him. "Something... precious to me, and important. I wasn't able to reclaim it when I fled. But he'll have brought it with him."

"I'll do my best to get it back then. Does this Baron call on you every time you step out of the warded room?"

"No. But I dare not sleep outside it." Tatters sighed shakily. "You're moving on E-Galabi soon?"

That was an interesting metaphysical tidbit of information... Inks nodded. "Sooner the better, but definitely not until we're ready.

Finally, a smile. "And you've been helping people in the mountains," Tatters says wistfully. "I heard about why you went. Getting more food for Gem's people. It's a good cause."

"I'm a big fan of enlightened self-interest." Inks grinned. "Anyway, I need to get ready for tomorrow, and the rounds I need to do. Let me know if anything comes up, or if you just want to talk.

Inks left Tatters in the ward-room and retired to the baths to consider. Carsa was being subservient again - though she could train her out of that habit in a week or two. Trasti Gion was being an overly pushy, flirtatious ass to her staff. Tatters was terrified of some Greater Dead ghostly master come to the region from An Teng, she still had to review the state of her holdings and meet with Rankar... honestly, the work never stopped.

At least in the mountains there had been a fairly comfortable day-to-day routine of covering ground and not dying, though admittedly the wyldstorm had broken up the usual order of business a bit.

Still, Pipera would be back soon with a review of her assets in the city, and until then she could always talk to Maji about the problems on her plate - oh, she needed to check on Bidaha and her daughter too, didn't she? And reclaim Hinna's lab up in Rankar Peak. Add those to the list.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So my plan is Baths, sleep for a night to clear up all the lingering damage/soreness, arrange meeting with Rankar which will take however long.)  
> Inks: (When is Rankar willing to see Inks?)  
> ST: ((The baths would be a good choice. It's been a while. He probably wants to ogle her. :P))  
> Inks: (Hahaha, touche, I was asking When, not Where though)  
> Inks: (cause like, if he wants to meet Inks 6 months out, Speed the Wheels, or not)  
> ST: ((Oh right. Since he had warning of when you were coming back, he's cleared a spot during his early evening - or the next morning, if she's exhausted from the long journey.))  
> Inks: (Next morning it is, Inks wants Sleep and Vahti-Cuddles!)  
> Inks: (But, as per teasing suggestion, Inks will invite Rankar to her home for the talks; I am assuming Pipera will also be working off-camera to summarize Inks's asset status)  
> Inks: (So do you want to write Rankar's arrival the next morning, or shall I?)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Inks can send a runner to find Pipera and either tell her to bring an initial summary back for the evening, or take her time and go through everything methodically for a full report after Inks has seen Rankar.))  
> Inks: (Full report, I think)  
> ST: ((So, basically, do you want a cliff-notes of the most important stuff that's been happening with her assets before the meeting, or are you comfortable meeting with him and finding out what's been happening from a non-Rankar source after.))  
> Inks: (The latter, cause I have Judge's Ear, among other things)  
> ST: ((Cool, fair enough. Add that into your stunt, then.))  
> 

  
  
Moving into the baths and pulling the ties of her gown apart, Inks sank into the enchanted waters with a gusty sigh. "Oh this is heavenly." One of her house staff was at her side with a bottle of wine and some snacks in an instant. Maji meanwhil prowled around the shore of the pool and stuck one bronzed paw in with a lazy chuff. To her employee, Inks grinned

"Thanks- could you send word to Pipera that I'd prefer a comprehensive accounting of my assets? I'll be meeting with the Despot tomorrow morning as well, so please make sure the property is presentable." She looked around her townhouse, wondering how else she could improve it...

Polite orders given, Inks settled back into the water with every sign of sweet contentment. After this, sleep, and then tomorrow- business.

* * *

After a sound night's rest with Maji's rumbling purrs making a counterpoint to the faint noise of the city, Inks rose with the dawn, stretched, and set herself up in the baths with a scantily-clad Vahti to attend her. Carsa was sent to accompany Pipera for the day - no need forcing her to spend time in the presence of the man who owned her and gave her away on a whim.

Rankar was a little late, but not by much, and arrived with a full contingent of guards and his sorcerer-vizier; the ifrit named Celi. Her inhumanly tall figure glowed with an orange light that filtered even through her ornate and gem-encrusted robes, and Inks could see around her neck the chain of a necklace that was golder than gold; shining from within as though filled with sunbeams, warm merely to look upon.

Rankar, meanwhile, was much as she remembered him. Dark-skinned, dark-eyed, his gaze narrow and his beard neatly trimmed. His crown glittered in the early morning sunlight, and if he was softer around the middle than he had been in his prime, there were few who would dare draw attention to it.

Sitting on one the higher stones of the bath, Inks's calves dangled into the water while she wore a gauzy, after-thought of a gown that clung wetly to her body, and Vahti was similarly attired. "Rankar! It's been quite a while. How have you been?"

"Well indeed, lady Inks," he replied with a thin smile, shucking his outer jacket and sandals to hand off to one of his attendants. "And yourself? How were your travels among the mountain people?"

"Exhausting, but productive. The Wyldstorm was... exciting." She stretched with a grin. "It was wonderful to see though- the mountains were beautiful and so rich with... everything!"

"Ah, yes," Rankar nodded, easing himself down into the water. "I'd heard about that. Unfortunate, I'm sure. Did it do much damage to them?"

'Did it do much damage to the trade deals supplying our food or their ability to supply it', Inks translated inwardly. She very much doubted Rankar cared about the health and wellbeing of the Coxati population for their own sake.

"In the aftermath of the storm, there was a great risk of cholera. But the storm- Impacci's Vengance, the locals called it, is a generational hazard. I gave what warning I could to Etiyadi and Xandia, but I expect them to know their business."

"Mmm." Rankar's eyes raked over her and Vahti. "Well, I have been true to my word here in Gem. The concerns about your reputation have largely been quashed; the worst offenders who spoke out against you have been reprimanded, and public opinion is in your support for the trade deals. The saudari's imports alone have won you favour, and we can..." he waved a hand vaguely, "make some announcement about your triumph over the storm showing the strength and resourcefulness of Gem." He sighed. "A pity that your trip couldn't have come a little later. No doubt the devastation would have made for a better bargaining position. Well, there may be space for flexibility in the agreements that they can't argue with; we'll see."

He laced his fingers together, eyes closing blissfully in the heat and serene aura of the baths. "I'm told you arrived with a small group of deyha in your traveling party."

"That was a fun experience. We almost got mugged moving through Cahzor on the way back to Gem!" Inks laughed, idly tracing the invisible line down her breast where Nabijah wounded her. "It took some fast talking but I was able to hire them instead. I'm hoping to use them against El-Galabi, once I take care of matters in Gem."

Rankar was quiet for a moment. A sense of subtle menace lay in his eyes as he opened them to give Inks a long, searching look, stroking his beard.

"Cahzor, you say," he said, voice silky. "On the way _back_ to Gem. Where were you coming from, to be so far north on your return?"

Inks suppressed a sigh- of course he'd want to catch her in a trap like that. "I was more following the Wyld Storm than anything- well, not really following as there was no where really else to go- it was hundreds of miles in any direction."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Before I finish my stunt, what would I be rolling to navigate this challenge? Manip+Presence, or is this a Manip+Soc/2 challenge for Rankar to check my truthiness?)  
> Inks: (Read Motivation, I mean)  
> ST: ((He rolls against your [Manip+Soc]/2 to see if you're lying, you roll Manip+Pres against his MDV 7 to try and bamboozle and bluff him away from being suspicious.))  
> ST: ((Remember that his eye for what subordinates want and how they feel is one of the main things that's kept him the Despot.))  
> ST: ((You may wanna Ex-boost that defensive roll.))  
> Inks: (Yeah, so he's probably really good at reading people, and I was def going to)  
> ST: ((Okay, so what are you applying Excellencies to?))  
> Inks: (Both rolls, Pres and Soc, also looking at some other options. Maji doesn't have a listed social attribute, so i'm gonna assume 1 or 2 dots at your ruling. Is Ranark's MDV 7 due to modifiers, or is he just That Good?)  
> Inks: (hmm, actually scratch that, I was thinking of using Maji's Subtle Whisper power to social influence without a source, but Maji's reaction would be Aggressive.)  
> ST: ((Partly he's That Good, partly it's being increased by a 1-dot "Suspicion" Principle that's countering his normal appreciation for Inks. If she's willing to get touchy she can probably swap the "bamboozle" roll to Charisma and reduce his MDV by playing to his vices.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, amusingly I was writing my stunt assuming he'd be Too Good to fall for that, but sure, let's vamp)  
> ST: ((She's noticed before that he has a 3-dot Principle for "Vice (dreamstones and young flesh)". He's good, but he has his weaknesses.))  
> 

  
  
On an unspoken but entertaining cue, Inks and Vahti both disengaged from their side of the baths and waded closer, tossing sly smirks at the tensing sentries while Celi watched with a more detached urbane expression. Rankar was a handsome man, and it was no great trouble appreciating that despite his other policies.

Moving nearer, Inks and Vahti reached out with their hands to trace fingers up Rankar's chest, towards his collarbone. "With that in mind, we did cross through Moto's lands for provisions, and by the time we'd recovered, the fastest way back to Gem was through Cahzor."

Leaning in, Inks's teeth flashed and she nipped the corner of his jaw. "A girl has to eat, after all."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, Cha/Man+Pres to bamboozle Rankar, tap dancing on his 3-dot vice principle. that's 6d +6d ex +3d/+1 Autosux from Style. +1d from Vahti Teamwork as well, and a +2 stunt I hope?)  
> Inks: (Then, Manip+soc 6/2 = 3, +3 sux from 2nd Socialize, and you want stunt dice rolled?)  
> ST: ((Oooo, _good_ stunt. Yes, 2 dot stunt that applies to your defense as well.))  
> Inks: (Nice. Why was it good?)  
> Inks: !ex 15 +1 "Cha+Pres"; Inks: [1, 7, 4, 2, 4, 2, 10, 1, 4, 4, 5, 8, 3, 3, 5] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (I hope that beats his MDV)  
> ST: ((She's implying that they passed into Moto's lands but didn't actually visit him, yes? It explains why she was up so far north while sounding like she still obeyed his order.))  
> Inks: (yeah)  
> Inks: !ex 2 "Man+soc stunt"; Inks: [9, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((And yes, the 3-dot reduces his MDV of 7 down to 4.))  
> Inks: (Nice, so Inks's Poker face is 8, Rankar's per+invest/soc has to beat 8)  
> ST: !ex 10; ST: [4, 4, 9, 7, 9, 9, 1, 3, 4, 9] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (That's an excellent pool. Rankar be scary yo)  
> 

  
  
In the face of the two beautiful women, Rankar's suspicion eased somewhat.

"I told you to avoid his territories," he frowned, but there was less venomous killing intent in it than before. Inks smiled languidly back.

"You said not to meet with him, but the borders aren't marked well," she pointed out, playing her fingers down his chest again. "And I can hardly be blamed for fleeing a wyldstorm now, can I?"

It takes a little more flirting, but he eventually seems mollified - and in a better mood than he'd arrived, in fact.

"There were other developments while you were gone," he shared, relaxing with a drink fetched for him by Vahti. "One of particular interest to you, as it happens."

"Go on~?"

The Despot of Gem smiled thinly. "A minor noble House - House Najjar - has put in a bid for a new monopoly. The claim they wished to state was over the tannery and sewage industries."

Inks felt a chill go down her spine. Those were _her_ businesses. A monopoly being granted to another house... well, it wouldn't ruin her, but it would be a crippling blow.

"They offered a respectable sum for their starting bid - more funds than they should have been able to gather," Rankar went on, arms spread out on the side of the baths, obviously enjoying himself. "I declined to allow it - I know how deeply invested you are in those parts of the city, and deigned to give you the chance to make a counter-offer - but they've raised their offered price twice since the initial bid. Whoever is funding them has deep pockets, and a pressing desire to have you gone."  
  


>   
> ST: ((You are very lucky Rankar likes admiring Inks' body and tattoo. :P))  
> Inks: (Apparently!)  
> ST: ((It meant that he went "nah, that would ruin my pet Solar; denied".))  
> 

  
  
"Fascinating." And it was too- it tickled the competitive streak in her something fierce- not that she disliked economic rivals on principle. "I appreciate the implicit support." She smiled, both in honest gratitude and knowing awareness of his ulterior motives. "I'll see about dealing with them soon. Was there anything else of note?"

"Elemi has been..." Rankar brings a hand around from behind Vahti to pinch his nose, "Mustering his forces. I don't know what for, but visit him soon and provide a pacifying influence, would you? Or at least ascertain what he means to do and distract his energies elsewhere if it seems overly ruinous."

"I intend to." Inks grinned. "I knew what I was getting into when I treated him."

"I doubt it," muttered Rankar at a volume she probably wasn't meant to hear.

Inks just smiled and did not say anything. Content to tease and flirt a bit more, she hummed. "After I settle these local matters, I do plan on finally retaking El-Galabi. I have the resources now and the personal skill. I think pointing Piercing Sun at a Yidak-lord is a good use of his time and talents, yes?"

Rankar seemed to take that a good deal more seriously than she'd meant it. He thought for a full minute or so, his eyes far away, absently stroking his beard.

"Write up a full proposal on your assault before you begin," he eventually decided. "Assuming your preparations are sufficient, I will allow the support of the Rangers - and possibly access to Gem's coffers to hire mercenary backing."

"Of course- I don't even have a rough schedule set, but it's on the horizon." Lifting her arms over head, Inks stretched with no small amount of pleasure and offering Rankar a delightful view. "Was there any other matter you wanted to take up with me?"

"Mmm." His eyes flicked over to her, taking in the wealth on display. "Trasti Gion has been visiting your manor while you've been away."

It was something he did a lot, Inks thought. Stating things, rather than asking them as questions. Putting the expectation of a response and explanation on the other party without needing to ask for it.

"Another small matter I'd need to take care of. He asked for my assistance with a matter and we're in the progress of resolving it."

He quirked an eyebrow, but seemed in generally high enough spirits not to press the issue. The rest of his visit was filled with more pleasant conversation - or at least less weighty matters; idle remarks and elaboration on her impressions of the Coxati states. She got the feeling he was listening with half an ear for any potential points of weakness - Priscia sprang to mind; she doubted Xandia's lover was well-known - but for the most part he looked content just to relax and enjoy her company.

Ceti remained silent and stiff; watchful from the among the stone-faced guardsmen; neither sitting nor softening until Rankar dried off, redressed and left.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I assume the party has left as well?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, his guards and Ceti left with him.))  
> 

  
  
Having soaked for long enough, Inks pulled herself out of the water with a mock huff of exhaustion. When Rankar was gone, Carsa returned with a more conservative (For Inks) dress. "Whew. How about lunch? Pipera should be back any minute."

Moving into the kitchen, Inks joined the staff with a smile, greeting them all by name and catching up after- six months, more of absence? They'd saved some money over the past seasons by not needing to keep the larder stocked for Maji's appetite, but the first deliveries of rich meat were beginning to arrive.

Golden sunfire danced along Inks's hands and arms as she worked, putting on a handsome spread of food to greet Pipera when she returned as well as satisfy the household.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Waiting for Pipera to get back, food prep as well, int+craft I guess to determine quality)  
> Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [2, 8, 10, 7, 2, 6, 9, 6, 4, 2] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (pretty good!)  
> 

  
  
When Pipera finally arrived, she was tired and grumpy. The food cheered her up a little, though, and Inks caught her directing several longing looks at the baths while she ate.

"So, to begin with the serious threat; one of the minor Houses has brought three bids before the Despot to gain a monopoly over the tannery and sewer trades," she began, sipping at a glass of wine to soothe a sore throat before continuing. "Obviously this will be ruinous if it goes through, so I suggest you immediately-"

"Rankar already made it pretty clear that he'd prefer I stay where I am." Inks coughed lightly. "In the sense of "I'm prettier than House Najjar.'"

"But yes, they're a Problem."

"Ah." Pipera finished off her glass of wine and refilled another with water. "In that case, which would you like to hear first? Your businesses in the city, your demon-complex, or your reputation?"

"City-businesses. I'm pretty sure we shuttered most of the demon endeavors that require supervision."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Did Inks leave the Herenhal and Neomah where they were, or did she banish everything and leave the complex empty?))  
> Inks: (Hmm.. I swear I shuttered it, but if I didn't and you want to catch me in a mistake, I'm game for either. Do we roll for it?)  
> ST: ((No, I'm asking. Like, did she just board up the openings and dismiss the cannibal spiders and suchlike while leaving the Neomah and Herenhal to continue their work there, or did she dismiss all of them?))  
> ST: ((I forget the exact detail of what you left there.))  
> Inks: (I never got to make the spider silk stuff, before leaving. The only demonworks I had running were the Herenhal and the Neomah- and the Neomah were instructed to Only fleshcraft more cattle for the Herenhals to make Hepatizon, even if a little Human got into the cattle from the bordello)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (I think from what I understand, the Herenhal and Neomah were pretty idiot-proof, so let's see how they progressed in my absence)  
> 

  
  
"Shuttered doesn't mean safe," Pipera said ominously. "But very well. Our businesses in the city are probably where we've seen the most problems, anyway. In short; I was right when I checked in on things after the negotiations between Xandia and Etiyadi. Someone has been attacking us economically. A fair portion of the businesses in and around Seventh have been subject to hostile takeovers or being bought out, and our overall profits from the area are nudging downwards. The orphanage is understaffed, and even House Bhalasus has seen a minor dip in sales of the cooling architecture - though that may be statistical or a result of the pool of demand starting to dry up. The designs don't need replacement once installed, after all."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks hasn't yet lost a Resources dot from her Seventh Scorpion businesses, but she's nearing that point.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha.)  
> 

  
  
"Well, I didn't expect for the cooling architecture to be an infinite supply of income either. Good starting capital though." Inks admitted. "So someone's trying to fight us with money.. and I'm guessing they have more than we do right now."

"It's one of the Great Houses," Pipera said with certainty. "Iblan or a faction of Trasti would be my best guess. Possibly Sahlak. Unlikely to be the Arbani or Circla; you've barely interacted with either." She drummed her fingers, annoyed, and sighed.

"Your demons, then. They've been attacked to, in a range of ways with varying success. There have been several physical assaults that have uniformly failed - crude exorcism slips on a few of the doors, firedust packets thrown over the walls; nothing effective. Rumourmongering has had somewhat more of an effect - the direct disparagement of your character dried up when the Despot had two men executed on thinly veiled grounds to demonstrate he didn't appreciate that kind of talk, and Etiyadi's first caravans arriving won you public support, but there have been whispers circling that even if you've enslaved the demons beyond thought of rebellion; the goods they make are still tainted. It's shrunk the market. Traffic to the bordello has dropped as well - I suspect some sort of censure of those who've been suspected of going."

"The biggest threat in that direction is economical - people buying up the brass and cattle to starve the complex of raw materials. Understand," she added, leaning forward, "none of these is a blow anywhere near the level of the attack on your city businesses; all are minor annoyances at best. But combined, they sum up to a _major_ annoyance, and a worrying picture."

"Hmm... Not sure what to do yet, but that neatly dovetails into the hit on my reputation, yes?"

"It does." Pipera smiled. "And there, I'm happy to say, we have sincere good news. Your reputation actually dipped sharply in the first week or so after we left - a rumour campaign about you fleeing the city in disgrace and an attempt to rouse support to demolish your properties. But then the Despot started cracking down on direct aspersions on your character, and combined an announcement that you were going to renegotiate trade deals with the Coxati territories in Gem's favour..."

She smiled wider, picking up her cup and swirling its contents.

"... with a half-percent reduction in the flat-rate water tax," she finished. "That did a _great_ deal to endear you to the common people. Etiyadi's caravans starting to arrive with newly-lowered prices around the time we were approaching Xandia's capital only redoubled the effect. I expect gossip is spreading of how we made it through the wyldstorm, as well, so expect to see another spike in popularity. Whoever our enemy is, they've been forced to make purely economic attacks because character assassination isn't effective."

Inks let out a pleased sigh- not so much of relief, but just happiness she still has successes to stand on. "Excellent. Let me think..."

Taking a bite of lunch herself, Inks nodded. "I think closing down the demon facilities is a good start. They served as good startup capital, but now they're starting to be a millstone. Demon labor's still going to be important going forward, but I can probably do it better now."

"I don't have any real moral or ethical objection to indulging in Neomah pleasures, aside from the whole 'they will fleshcraft from you' proviso. So in the event I do rebuild it, I'd want to probably anonymize it better. It was too conspicuous the first time out."

"I think going forward I'd move to an on-order model instead of a constant development- if a person or group wants say, Hepatizon tools, they can contract me for the work order..." She continued to mull out loud, but trailed off after a moment. "I think that about covers it. So here's what I want you to do-." She turned to Pipera.

The officious woman steeled herself, resolute and willing to act despite her discomfort, but Inks just took several deliberate steps towards the bath, then around it. In five minutes of ritual invocation, the air around the baths grew hazy and occluding. "Enjoy, I'll make sure no one bothers you outside of an emergency."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Private Plaza on the Baths to render it well, Private, for Pipera's benefit. After that Inks can take a dramatic action to banish the herenals and neomah. I think at night, Inks'll summon some Stomach Bottle Bugs to clean up the refuse as well.)  
> ST: ((Heh. Nice.))  
> Inks: (How about we get Bidaha and her daughter settled in the townhouse, after that's all done?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll me Int+Occult at Diff 4 to see how you can salvage from the complex in useful leftovers.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; Inks: [6, 7, 2, 10, 6, 8, 1, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (L-l-Legendary)  
> ST: ((Nice! Inks has an additional one-off Res 5 amount of unworked leftover hepatizon she can make use of.))  
> Inks: (Yay! So Inks still owns the properties, but no more bordello and hepatizon production. I'll scratch those off on my sheet)  
> ST: ((So, Bidaha and her daughter and Piercing Sun are tied together, and I think I'd like a bit more planning time and a fresh session to do them, so I'll call it there with the "back to Gem" stakes and situation established.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. So XP, maybe Essence 4 or 'not yet'?  
> ST: ((4xp + 1mxp + 4Sxp))  
> Inks: (Cool. What was Pipera's reaction to the spell on her behalf?)  
> ST: ((And yes, she's heard about her eg- uh, her reputation swelling and her caravans coming in and her trade networks flourishing, so you can call that Motivation complete.))  
> ST: ((Pipera is very happy with her privacy to enjoy the baths. +2pp (Pipera Points) :P))  
> 

  
  



	40. Session 40: Elemi Piercing Sun - model of temperance and discretion

With Pipera sequestered away in the baths behind a veiling curtain of privacy - Inks made a note to look into setting up a permanent private area, actually, it would be useful for confidential meetings - she went looking for the other residents of her manor.

Ajjim and Pesala were settling back in without much issue, though Ajjim was making noises about needing to go off on another trip into the deep desert to renew stock for his business, lest it slide out of the memory of the markets. Maji was taking the opportunity for his third grand return feast. Carsa... well, Trasti Gion would arrive later that evening if his past patterns were anything to judge by, so she could deal with that then.

Bidaha and Siyma, however, were not in evidence. Anywhere. Despite Inks having left them on an unspoken and apparently entirely mutual agreement to stay on Inks' property and not stick their distinctive necks out into Gem proper; the Despot being who he was.

Hmm.

"Hrmm..." Inks tapped her chin, humming to herself. "So they're likely in a holding cell, or somewhere else... Carsa!" Her head of staff appeared with a nod. "Did my guests Bidaha and Simya ever arrive here, or did you hear any news as to their location?"

Carsa winced. "They... arrived, yes, m'lady," she said, curtsying. "Th-they, um. Stayed until two days past Calibration."

Inks blinked.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh fuck it if they auto-banished back to Hell I'm going to be pissed at myself)  
> 

"...Did they by chance explain where they were going?"

Carsa winced again. "N-not as such, m'lady. We... we had a visitor."

There was a lot of wincing and curtsying as Inks dragged the explanation out of her. But in summary, after putting it together, it went something like this:

Two days after Calibration, on some private whim that none of the staff or guards had heard explained, "the Lauded and Honourable Elemi Piercing Sun" had walked up to the front door of Inks' manor, stared all four guards into backing away meekly without voicing a challenge, hammered on the door and shouted loudly enough to rouse the entire household when the response to his knocking hadn't been fast enough.

Carsa had been out on an errand, and a bout of food poisoning had had the two servants who were meant to be watching the manor in her place recuperating in the baths, so it had been Siyma who'd answered the door to get the noise to stop.

The attendants who'd been in the pool hadn't caught much of the conversation, but according to the guards, the old Dragonblooded had immediately clocked her as a demon-child, and a few words and sheer force of charisma had set her to babbling out her mother's presence in Inks' manor along with an abbreviated reason for them being there. Apparently, this had interested him enough that he'd abandoned whatever business he'd come on, accosted both of them, and taken them off for the purposes of "getting to the bottom of this".

Carsa hadn't heard anything from either of them since, and his original reason for coming had either been forgotten or supplanted, because he hadn't come back either.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Presence chaaaaaarms~))  
> 

Inks blinked once, twice, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. I think everyone did as well as could be expected under the circumstances. Maybe some retraining and better security practices will help in the future....

"I really don't think mortal guards are gonna keep someone like him out, boss," Vahti pointed out. "So, we going on another rescue mission? Man, we already rescued her once, now we come back and she needs it again?"

Walking over to the baths, Inks knelt down next to the edge and reached an arm through the screen to gently slap the water. When Pipera leaned her head out past the boundary, she blinked over at Inks. The Twilight winced. "I'm just letting you know that I have to have words with Piercing Sun. Keep relaxing, you've earned it. I'll be back when I'm back."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Good use of Vahti!)  
> 

"Oh dear," is Pipera's only comment. "Do I need to run damage control on anything?"

"Or am I _going_ to have to run damage control on anything?"

"I don't think so- he apparently had something planned for me and then he saw Bidaha and Simya and went 'demon!' and tangented hard. I want to ask what's going on before I escalate. I just wanted you to know before I left."

Pipera sighed. "So, yes. I'll call that a 'probably' on running damage control." She smirked. "Call me when the fires go out, and not before."

Her head vanishes back beyond the boundary, and Inks is left with Vahti's quiet snickering.

"She's really hot when she smirks, I'm not gonna lie." Inks grinned, content in the knowledge that Pipera wouldn't hear her. "Okay... Maji, you'll stay here to guard the townhouse. Vahti, see if you can dress as my muscle this time. Sexy muscle, of course..."

When Vahti saluted and sashayed off, Inks moved over to Ajjim's office, where the tiger-man was pouring over maps and charts with a will. "Ajjim- heading out for a bit. I wanted to thank you for... everything during the Coxati expedition. I'm glad you were there."

"A little more exciting than I would have liked, but I too am glad," Ajjim returns pleasantly. "Though I hope you don't mind if I think twice about taking Pesala along next time we travel over Calibration."

"Agreed. But I think it was good for her too. I wanted to offer you a place in my campaign to retake El-Galabi, but probably weeks off that if not longer. 'No' is fine~"

He frowns. "I... will think about it," he promises. "I can give you no more than that, I am afraid."

"I understand! If nothing else I'd like your help exploring the ruins after we clear out the shadowlands, but again, weeks or months away." With that she said her farewells and sauntered back out, finding Vahti clad in flattering silk and tough leather wraps around her forearms and shins. "  
"Perfect, let's talk to Piercing Sun."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Is she taking her Deyha, or just Vahti?))  
> Inks: (Just Vahti, Deyha would likely exacerbate the issue-that reminds me)  
> 

Along the way, Inks hummed idly to herself, going over what she knew and remembered of the man Elemi Piercing Sun, and his burning, raging passion and jingoistic fervor. A strong personality if there ever was one, strong as hers maybe, if not more.

She'd seen the results of that in Cahzor, indirectly at least. So as she and Vahti walked to Gem, Inks built a profile of the man in her head.

 

Piercing Sun was, once again, in the Ranger encampment on the south slopes of Gem, in a stone fort that definitely hadn't been there when last Inks came to visit him. She hadn't noticed it when they'd arrived back - largely concerned with getting the caravans to where they were meant to be going and working out where to put Nabijah and her band - but it sat with a perfect view over the last stretch of the caravan path up into the caldera.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Evidence Discerning Method, building a profile on Sun just in case)  
> ST: ((Inks can roll Per+War to analyse it if she wants))  
> Inks: (EDM is per+invest Diff 1 actually,contested by manip+Soc/2 as external penalty if the target is sending out misleading cues/deception, or acting out of character)  
> Inks: (The charm itself gives me no info, but it removes external penalties)  
> ST: ((I mean the fort, though yes, roll EDM too.))  
> ST: ((Piercing Sun heard about being sneaky and sending out misleading cues once, and didn't see the point. :P))  
> Inks: (8 successes, I negate 4 points of external penalties on all dramatic, social and warfare rolls against Sun until I decommit 5m or the profile is out of date)  
> Inks: (per+war is 5d, rolled 5 successes, goddang)  
> ST: ((Niiiiice))  
> 

The fort was wide and hunkered close to the ground; its low outer walls made up for by a wide dry-moat around it. The positioning meant she couldn't get a good look into it - she'd actually have to be some way up Rankar Peak to do that, from the angles - but from the size she guessed there was the central fort and then considerable space for parade grounds and the like. The walls were angled to make the whole thing a star shape that would give defenders overlapping fields of fire and allow a small number of men to cover the entire perimeter, and the central fort had enough height to add supporting fire from any sorcerers there, as well as acting as a lighthouse for troops some way afield.

Honestly, Inks doubted it was Piercing Sun's design. The comprehensive structure of the thing spoke of something that had been thought through in great depth and carefully optimized by some very bright minds over a good deal of time. If she was a betting woman, she'd say he had the blueprints for some Shogunate - or even Realm - standard fortification tucked away somewhere, and had dug into them for this.

Inks whistled softly to herself, but it was better than the inner-city barracks she'd seen before. Approaching the gate, she called out to a guard to meet with her. "I'm here to see Piercing Sun."

The guards at the gate wore the lightweight hardened leather armour of the Rangers, and were armed with spears of pale, matte grey metal. These were levelled at Inks and Vahti while a quick, clipped discussion took place, and an officer - in a breastplate of the same odd metal - approached. His eyes flicked up and down her distinctive tattoo, her fire duck companion, the white fire of the adamant gem on her forehead and the lack of any giant tiger before nodding. "This way, ma'am."

Her guess had been right - most of the interior _was_ parade grounds - largely the southern side, where the shadow of the fort offered some extra protection from the sun. The northern half of the inner space was occupied by had barracks, workshops and armouries, as well as a number of tents and lean-tos. Looking around, Inks judged that this place could likely house the entirety of the Rangers' forces if needed, though it would be a tight fit.

Rather than the central fort, it was the tents they made their way towards; specifically a wide, high-ceilinged one with open walls and only a few curtains set up inside to cordon off areas. The man she'd come to see was in full armour - a patched-together mess that made Inks wince inwardly to see - and going through drills outside it with his dragon-headed staff at speeds that defied his age.

She could not show fear or hesitation, not around this man- just like Nabijah. Striding up, she approached so that she was clearly within line of sight before speaking. "Heya. Glad to see you're in fighting shape."

"Hah!" A blurred swing, feint and thrust from the staff. The dragon heads seemed to snarl, and Inks could tell the armour was... boosting him somehow; speeding his movements, lending him strength. "Sun-girl! You're back, then. Took you long enough to limp your way over here!" He didn't stop moving, or look at her specifically. "Why've you come?"

"Business and business, mostly." She admitted. "I heard that you came to visit my property a while back, and then took interest in two of my guests. I was hoping you could explain."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Does Inks want to examine the armour? If so, Per+Craft at -2 external for how he's moving around so much in it and making it hard to focus on any given part for long.))  
> Inks: (Sure)  
> Inks: (10d +2 autosux from 2nd craft)  
> Inks: (7 total, threshold 5)  
> 

"Ah, yes." Thwack thwack went the staff, flicking from side to side at head level to catch two phantom attackers in its teeth aside before jumping backwards like a salmon between his ribs and elbow to slam its end into whatever imaginary foe had launched themselves at him from behind. "Your pet demon and her spawn. Gave me a good recounting of that business with the assayer." He scoffed, flipping the staff forward over his shoulder and bringing it down in an overhead swing that rattled the ground when it connected. Scarcely had it landed than he was kicking forward at hip height with bone-splintering force. "Foolish, gal. You think you'll retake El-Galabi with skills like those?"

The armour was interesting, Inks thought. It wasn't all one piece - oh, it was all painted and branded in the sand-and-fire colours of the Rangers, but structurally it was a mess. The torso, arms and one leg were all of a piece, but the right leg was normal plate metal that didn't boost his speed like its partner. The helmet didn't match the neckpiece it was connected to, and had been modified to fit, and the gauntlets weren't the original design either - they were bronze and red diamond where the rest of it was another kind of strange First Age metal.

Inks hummed, cocking her head to one side. "Not my proudest moment, no." She admitted. "And to be perfectly honest, no. I know my skills aren't up to the task yet. Something I aim to address." She crossed her arms under her breasts and tapped her finger against one bicep. "I'd like my guests returned to my care first."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Oh yeah, did Inks have Windroarer returned, or pay for him to overnight somewhere, or what?))  
> Inks: (Oh, hum... I really want to keep him, so Overnighted somewhere.)  
> Inks: (but if Sun wants him back, I'll give him back)  
> 

One last spinning deflection and a twisting cut from a knife she hadn't noticed anywhere on his person, and Elemi Piercing Sun came to a halt. He tugged off the domed, Y-visored helmet with its amulets of red jade off and shifted it under one arm, his shock of white hair standing up again as soon as it was off. He looked much as she remembered him - perhaps a little less thin in the cheeks; the predatory air of a great desert cat now more that of a proud lion - but still with freckles dotted across his dark skin like sparks from a fire and deep-set eyes that held burning depths.

"Aye, and I'd like my lion-horse back," he said, spinning his staff absently and stomping closer. Inks could hear the hissing of the armour as it moved with him; internal mechanisms following his step under partial power of its own instead of only the drive his muscles could give. He was an imposing man normally - in metallic powered-lamellar like this, like this, he loomed.

"Still, let me get this claptrap off and we'll go see 'em. They're up in the keep." A sharp jerk of his head had a watching ranger hurrying into one of the curtained off areas of the tent, and Piercing Sun followed him, stabbing his staff down into the sandy ground just outside the tent's carpets and gesturing for Inks to follow him into the tent's shade with a casual wave.

"Of course." Inks agreed while inwardly she lamented losing Windroarer's presence in her life. "I'll bring him back before the night is over, unless something comes up." Having said that, she followed, watching the man and his armorers peel Sun's panoply away in a bustle of efficient military discipline.

It doesn't take long for him to get changed into a tumbaga breastplate and some deep red shalwar pants, and he grabs his staff again as they march up towards the fort; the butt clacking against the ground every other step in a habit he hadn't quite broken from his days of infirmity.

"So, you survived the trip," he said, mouth twisting upwards in challenge. "You still think of the peak-lords as friendly folk you can negotiate with, eh? Or did you run into trouble while you were over there?" He grinned ferociously, yellowed teeth bared and eyes glinting wickedly. "Not just trouble of the human sort, either, I hear."  
  


>   
> Inks: (heh. Hmm, can we say Inks brought the arrowheads from the bandit raid with her?)  
> ST: ((We can.))  
> 

Inks snorted. "You could say that. Wyld Storms are no joke, and Cahzor was an interesting experience to say the least. Beyond that, I met a number of friendly-enough people. Enough to do business at least. Successfully, I might add."

"On that note- " Inks reached into a pouch at her side and retrieved a handful of arrowheads, complete with some of the shaft and examples of the fletching. "Do you recognize these?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's ear awaiting).  
> 

"Hah! Cahzor? You went through that festering cesspit?" Piercing Sun spits. "I was a captain in the battle that broke the back of the Jansi back in the 590s. Good riddance to 'em." He takes the arrowheads and looks at them, pursing his lips.

"Piercing bolts," he notes. "And hookheads. Quality fletching." He sights along the shaft and snaps one of the broken ones between his fingers, then twists one of the long, narrow arrowheads until it deforms. "Where'd you get these? Or," his lips twist in a grin again, "should I ask who shot 'em at you?"

"I was hoping you could tell me." She looked him right in the eye, taking his measure all the while. She took the samples in her own hand, evaluating their craftsmanship far less destructively than Sun did.

He snorted. "Lots of people use arrows, gal, they aren't unique. Tell me the _how_ , and I can give you a better guess. Unless they were one volley out of nowhere, you must've seen something of whoever fired 'em. Where'd they hit you? How?" He looks at her dubiously. "Did you even run them off, or just escape with your life?"

"Killed two in one blow, the had an earth elemental of sorts backing them up. Maji took care of it. My suspicion is that they knew what they were facing." She tapped the hookhead arrows, the ones meant for unprotected flesh. "These were meant for me- I'd already made it abundantly clear how I didn't walk around wearing armor."

"we were attacked along the route between Etiyadi and Xandia's lands, as well."

His eyes narrowed. "Hnn. That narrows it down a lot. This'd be, what, after you visited the volcano's gal? A few weeks after you arrived in their lands?" He closed his eyes, mapping out the route in his head.

"Thereabouts, yes."  
  


>   
> ST: ((It was after she'd been through Etiyadi, visited Xandia and was on her way back - is she intentionally misleading him there?))  
> Inks: (Ah, no, I mis-remembered, retcon!)  
> 

"Ah- actually no. We were attacked after heading away from Xandia towards Etiyadi's land, before the Wyld Storm..." She ran over the details a few times just to be sure, nodding once.

His eyebrows rose, and he grunted in thought, leading them around the side of the fort towards the entrance. "If it were soon after I'd say Moto. He uses elementals, and he's known for how he outfits his men." He snorted. "Cowardly young idiot. Brash. Foolish. Heard he got one of his own mountains hating him, an' it wouldn't surprise me. But with a timeframe like that... mm, could've been White-Eyes instead. He's certainly got cause, and I've heard he has deals with the elementals in his peaks - doesn't bind 'em like Moto does, some other arrangement. His men are the best killers in those godforsaken mountains, too. Timing's odd, though. Too long for either of them if they sent those soldiers out as soon as they heard you were there. Either something tipped them into knocking you off after you'd been there a while, or those men spent a good while trailing you before catching up."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so I want to use Judge's Ear here, but in terms of gameplay, how do I target; do I have to pick out specific statements and spend motes each one, or is that whole block of text covered by the Charm?)  
> ST: ((I'd break that down into five clauses - [first thought Moto], [opinion of Moto], [might be Pangasutri], [opinion of Panagasutri], [odd timing]. Assuming you're willing to take his opinions of them on faith, that's three clauses - two if you don't care much about the timing.))  
> Inks: (I'd target 'Might be Pangasutri' then, everything else is chaff)  
> ST: ((NOT LIE))  
> Inks: (Cool. Strictly speaking JET only returns Half Truth and Untruth, so the better return is 'No response')  
> 

Nodding, Inks pocketed the evidence with a sigh. "Okay, so an ongoing investigation then. Well, as long as we're here and whoever did it is somewhere else, I'm fine with that. Can we talk about Bidaha and Simya?"

"Keep your pretty little head on, girl, we're getting there," Piercing Sun led her into the fort - two sets of heavy doors, Inks noted, and murder holes in the ceiling for anyone who got through the first set - and stomped along through corridors and up several flights of stairs. There were rangers in here, too - uniformed but not armoured - and all of them saluted as he walked past; here and there barking commands, criticisms and the very rare compliment. The last, without fail, made the lucky soldiers who earned praise glow with pride.

Finally, they came to a door on the south side of the fort, overlooking the parade grounds, which Piercing Sun shouldered open without bothering to knock. Inside appeared to be a library, with a maze of angled shelves occupying fully half the room's length to the left and right and only a single clear corridor through the middle to the open far side. Despite the haphazard nature of the shelves - plain, unvarnished wood that had obviously been put up to serve a purpose without care for looking pretty - it seemed an expansive collection. The scents of ink and paper hung heavy in the air, along with another faint, sweet, musky scent that Inks couldn't quite place.

"Demon," the old Dragonblood barked. "Your sun-girl is here, get out here. Come on, don't waste my time."

There was no response, and he made a growling noise of exasperation in the back of his throat and flapped a hand at Inks. "She'll be somewhere in the shelves, you find her."

Inks whistled. "Oh, okay I can see what's happening here. I feel like I should ask the obvious question- did you ever consider Bidaha and her daughter a threat?"

Staying in earshot, she walked through the haphazard stacks, looking for a hint of inhuman skintone or the obvious signs of the biblophile.  
  


>   
> Inks: (per+invest, Crafty Observation Method to scan the scene in 5 seconds, even if it doesn't find Bidaha, it might give me a clue!)  
> Inks: (5 successes!)  
> 

She still catches the look the war-leader of Gem's rangers gives her as she disappears into the stacks. If she'd suggested that he should prepare for a sudden foot-deep snowfall over the next few days, it would have gotten her the same mix of incomprehension, dismissal and exasperation. He didn't even need to give a verbal response to convey that the thought of a neomah threatening him or the rangers was ludicrous.

>   
> Inks: (I walked into this whole scene with poor assumptions! More fool I!)  
> Inks: (But fun!)  
> ST: ((:P))  
> 

The stacks told her rather more. This was the library of the rangers; their accumulated knowledge, and from the looks of things Bidaha had been running free in here for some time. It was her scent Inks had noticed as she'd come in; the beguiling odour of the Neomah, and the shelves were midway through reorganization into a new filing system.

That was what she found Bidaha engrossed in when she backed out of a dead-end formed by a crossways shelf placed between two parallel ones, ducked through the narrow gap between two zigzagging ones and followed the sound of rustling paper around a hairpin turn.

The lilac-skinned demon was kneeling next to a collection of scrolls that she'd been refiling, engrossed in one. She was as boyishly slim as when Inks had first seen her; dark eyes flitting back and forth over the paper, and she looked...

Inks blinked, feeling heat gather unfamiliarly. Bidaha looked _gorgeous_. Wise and knowing, learned and educated. It hung in the air around her like a cloak - who could doubt the beauty of such a mind? She was as alluring as Inks herself, and yet... the urge wasn't carnal, exactly. Inks didn't want to kiss her, she wanted to... what? To throw herself at the neomah's feet and beg to learn? No - well, yes, a little - but she knew that she herself was just as wise in some ways, and only lagged behind a little in others.

She could also... she could tell that... no, something was off here. Something didn't make sense. Bidaha was beautiful, but she barely looked any different than how Inks had seen her when they were captives together. What was going on?  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Occult to guess at what's causing this effect, Diff 3.))  
> Inks: (Clearly you had this sequence planned out a great deal...)  
> Inks: !ex 5 +2; [7, 4, 1, 1, 7] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Actually not so much, but this was a good place to drop this hint.))  
> ST: ((Anyway, Inks can interpret as you like, but basically, Bidaha's been diverging away from being a normal Neomah towards a thing of "temptation with knowledge" rather than sex. And she's a pretty powerful Neomah. As a result, she's picked up a unique spirit charm that's altered how her standard "alluring and attractive to everything" Neomah fragrance works.))  
> Inks: (Huh, not sure how it works in general, is it UMI or something else?)  
> ST: ((Namely, it switches Appearance with Lore and Occult. If someone has a higher rating than you in either, they use that difference instead, and you want to stay up all night learning their sexy, sexy knowledge.))  
> Inks: (hahaha, so it's just the App modifier, basically? Nice)  
> ST: ((Inks is fine on Lore, but her Occult lags two dots behind Bidaha's, so for perhaps only the second time in her life she's finding someone else to be more attractive than her.))  
> Inks: (...Bidaha is generating a Hot for Teacher Aura)  
> ST: ((It's very distressing. She's not used to this feeling at all.))  
> Inks: (Nice)  
> 

She was blushing, flush down to her chest and she hadn't felt like that without foreplay in years. Inks coughed once, twice, when the air was stuck in her throat, but she marshaled her will. "Bidaha! I'm back from Coxati. How are you and your daughter doing?"

Bidaha didn't react at first, too engrossed in the scroll to hear. Then Inks' words seemed to penetrate her absorption, and she jerked her head up and smiled.

"Inks," she cooed. "So good to see you again. I've been working through the library here. They have some _fascinating_ archives." Her dark eyes gleamed. "Would you like to know some of the things I've found? Hinna knew much that these records have furthered. It's been a joy, truly."

The offer to share sounded like liquid sex, and sent a shiver down Inks' spine.

"Uhm. Later. Mostly I wanted to know how you were doing- you weren't at the townhouse, and I was worried something had happened to you two."

"No, no," Bidaha reassured her. "Oh, but do call on me when you decide to reclaim Hinna's workspace. I'm sure I can help you find everything she hid there, mmm?"

"I plan on it." Blushing haaaarder now. And other things, cursing her own preference for thin silk. She leaned out of the stacks to look at Piercing Sun. "So why did you bring her here?"

"The assayer." The old dragonblood, she was relieved to find, was _not_ absurdly beautiful. Handsome enough in his own way, yes, but no more so than she, and falling short of her own - or Bidaha's - beauty. "Her spawn spilled more on your dust-up there and," he grinned, "I wanted the full story. Which reminds me; you need training. Show up here tomorrow in something you can fight in." He took in her silks and Vahti's slightly more combat-ready attire with a dubious eye. "Or just show up, and we'll get you and your bird fitted with something. If Moto or White-Eyes are sending people at you, let alone if you're planning on taking El Galabi, you need to know how to actually fight."

"... Considering that was the other point of business I wanted to address, I think we're on the same page." She considered for a moment. "I could probably help you out with your armor, if you were interested."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? What help?"

"Repairs, maybe even restoring it to original functionality. I'd have to examine it more in depth."

"Heh," He grins. "The old helmet's long gone, gauntlets were useless, an' the right leg went the same way as mine. If you think you can match the greaves on the new one I'll let you take a look at it, but I'll wait for you to prove your mettle before I let you work."

"Understandable, but you never know~" Inks caroled, before smiling at Vahti and Bidaha. To the Neomah she called- "Come back to the townhouse for dinner, I want to catch up with you and your daughter- where is Simya by the way?"

Bidaha waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the rest of the fort, already absorbed in her scroll again, which Inks took to mean that Siyma was present but not in the library. "Experimenting," she murmured, only half paying attention. "She's been trying to weave things other than flesh. No success so far, though I've given her what aid I can."

"I'll check in with her before I go, then. " She looked to Sun, seeing as it was his fort.

He jerked a thumb upward. "Upper levels," he said. "I'll show you there, but I've things that need doing after that. C'mon."

Siyma's workspace, in contrast to the cluttered chaos of the library her mother had taken over, was open and airy, with benches covered in bottles and jars around the circumference of the room, all the windows thrown open to allow the air to circulate, and a green fire burning in a brass crucible at the centre of the room in the middle of a ring of tables. Siyma's dark skin had a hint of her mother's lilac, her eyes were a little too dark, her scent that tiny bit too fragrant. She startled as Inks entered and Piercing Sun's armoured boots stomped away alongside the rattle of his staff, looking up from the scraps of _stuff_ she was teasing together on the far side of the table-ring.

Knocking on the doorframe, Inks leaned in. "Heya, how are you doing, Simya?"

"... well?" Siyma said cautiously. "I fare well, lady. Even if..." she grimaced, "I'm not having the success I'd like to be." She frowned down at the squishy biological mess on the table, sighed, and flicked it into the fire. Apart from a brief brightening of the flame and a short burst of smoke, nothing happened, and Siyma was already turning to pluck more jars from the edges of the room by the time the smoke stopped and the flame settled again.

Taking a moment to examine the proceedings- the materials, tools and Simya herself, Inks hummed, wondering if she could contribute.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int/Per +Occult for ideas, +4 auto from 2nd excellency. Spent 16m so far this scene)  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; [3, 3, 2, 3, 4, 9, 6, 7] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

There was human flesh in among the glassware - blood, urine, hair, saliva, small vials of semen, a jar of assorted fingers, three mismatched ears... was that an eyeball? Eww. But there were also a number of insects and a few scraps of plant, and Inks guessed that was probably what Siyma was trying to do - merge insect, plant and human into something with qualities of all of them.

Inks couldn't fleshweave herself - not without making specialized tools to do so - but what she knew of the art told her that mixing together disparate ingredients made it harder to get a working end result. Two things as utterly different as insect and mammal would be tricky - add _plant matter_ in there and it was little wonder Siyma was failing. What she would probably be best served by was slowing down and doing something more simple. Whatever level she'd managed to reliably succeed at in spare moments where Hinna wasn't watching, say. Not a project as ambitious as this one looked to be.

"Hmm..." Moving vover, Inks took a seat next to the woman. "So what's your objective?"

"A... a seeder," Siyma explained, gesturing with the vials as she took them. "Something like a large insect, small enough that the wind can carry it far, smart enough to find water or a sheltered spot. Able to grow from just the sun and soil. I release lots of them, they swarm out into the desert, find places where there's water..."

She brought her fingers down to the table, demonstrating. "Set root there and grow. Then release scents that others can follow. Which leads us there. An easy way of finding and cultivating new water sources out in the sands."

"I love your ambition!" Inks grinned. "But I think you're already running into the problem of scope-creep." She softened the critique with a smile, reaching for a paper to sketch out a plan. "Maybe try separating out the steps, get really good at mastering plants, first, then insects, and lastly humans."

"With mastery in any one group, you can start refining them and improving- make stronger plants that need less water, for example. Cacti are good at that. I've had some agricultural ideas in mind myself..." She continued to jot down suggestions with a borrowed brush, coaxing Simya to speak and ask questions- as well as offer her own insight as well.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Lore to help her with a strategy, I definitely want to use HAM for her when time permits as well, raising Simya's relevant traits.)  
> 

Unfortunately, her gentle criticism wasn't gentle enough. Siyma scowled; hackles rising.

"Really? Did Bidaha send you here?" she snapped, shoulders hunching defensively as she turned away from the notes. "Urgh, I thought she'd given up. Look, you don't need to talk down to me like I'm a _child_. I know what I'm doing. And I'm already good with individuals. If you're just going to tell me to play around with the basics instead of working on something useful, you can leave."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Bounced off CONVICTIOOOOOOON.))  
> ST: ((oh, actually, heh))  
> 

Something about her instant defensiveness and the simmering rage at being belittled or stymied - or perhaps it was how she referred to Bidaha - reminded Inks that Siyma was as much Hinna's daughter as Bidaha's.

Inks blinked. "...I'm sorry. No, Bidaha didn't send me up here. I was worried about you when you weren't at the townhouse, for starters. I should've asked first if you were already good at individuals; are you having trouble making something that breeds true?

"I'm having trouble..." Siyma made a frustrated noise and thumped the table, scowling. "I'm having _trouble_ weaving the parts together at all. The textures don't _grip_ right! And the temperatures won't all align; I can't get the third to match!"

Inks got the feeling that she wasn't talking about physical texture and temperature there. The hazards of explaining higher-level craft in language not suited for it were always tricky; she knew from personal experience. 'Nanda had always gotten a bit weird when describing how she controlled water, too.

"Hrm... I think I'd need to learn how to fleshcraft myself before I could offer any immediate help, but I'm again sorry for acting the know-it-all." She winced, slumping more in her seat with a wry grin. "You didn't deserve that, after a frustrating day. I was hoping to invite you back to the townhouse for dinner so we could catch up- but Bidaha would be there and if you don't want to deal with her, I understand."

Siyma shrugged with a hint of sulkiness. "She's mostly stopped trying to bother me about it. Said something about 'leaving me to my mistakes'. I'll come, as long as she doesn't start up again."

"I'd appreciate that."

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (For the sake of pacing, I don't think we need to on-camera the dinner scene too much, these scenes are covering what I wanted to know)  
> ST: ((Yeah. I think I'm tiring out, though, so end it there?))  
> ST: ((I kind of wanted to get Gion and Hinna's lab done, but I'm flagging hard.))  
> Inks: (Works, I noticed! I appreciate the effort)  
> Inks: (xp?)  
> ST: ((4xp + 1mxp))  
> ST: ((So, pleased with that?))  
> Inks: (I was honestly confused a lot)  
> Inks: (I enjoyed lots of it, but I misread a bunch of cues and generally was off balance because of it)  
> ST: (ah :c)  
> Inks: (like, my impression of Sun is that he's inherently hostile to Everything, so I was like 'oh shit he's banished Bidaha back done something to Simya')  
> Inks: (I'd go into this more in the postmortem)  
> Inks: (but I felt like I had to deal with Sun more as the Despot than as an Ally)  
> Inks: (like, he's Prickly)  
> Inks: (so there's less immediate... I didn't feel SAFE around Sun, but that's not necessarily a Bad Thing?)  
> Inks: (safe in the sense of 'this is an asset I can leverage in terms of gameplay')  
> Inks: (I still had fun! )  
> Inks: (and Bidaha's Hot Teacher Aura was hilarious)  
> Inks: (BUT)  
> Inks: (congrats !!)  
> Inks: (session 40!!!)  
> ST: ((I may have been a bit off. Hmm... I try to characterize Sun as aggressive, but Inks is currently included in the group of things he's jingoistic _about_ , so while he might think she's a weak noodly-armed wimp who needs some good hard training and GEM PATRIOTISM and that she's naive about wanting diplomacy with other nations, he's still fundamentally On Her Side.))  
> ST: ((Or, uh))  
> ST: ((more accurately)  
> ST: ((she's on his  
> ST: ((He certainly has no time for Solar Supremacy. :P  
> Inks: (Right, I started to realize that well after the session was underway  
> ST: ((But rather than Rankar's quiet menace of "I may have to dispose of you if you prove too much of an annoyance", Sun's basically a drill sergeant personality.  
> Inks: (Right, and fundamentally drill sergeants are not about being bullies  
> ST: ((Largely because, uh, that's how he trains the rangers. :P  
> ST: ((from a certain point of view, being a drill sergeant is his job  
> Inks: (they're mean for-purpose  
> ST: (Yes.  
> Inks: (that's not something people GET though in fiction  
> Inks: (but military culture and indoctrination is calculated, and can be both noble and absolutely monstrous  
> ST: ((Yeah.  
> Inks: (sometimes at the same time, but hopefully more Noble than not  
> Inks: (anyway, definitely a good ease-in session. I admit I was hoping to get an idea of what kind of Training Sun would deploy  
> Inks: (like, physical, sorcerous, knowledge  
> ST: ((It has a very specific goal, which is to take a relatively ordinary civilian and turn them into a soldier who will, on command, rush into danger and kill other human beings for their country.  
> Inks: (aye  
> ST: ((Oh, yeah. Uh, so behind the scenes; physical training, lots of, and also combat sorcery. Possibly gear and equipment, if he doesn't think her own is up to snuff.  
> Inks: (Seeing as she has 'Effectively none'  
> ST: ((Well, he approves of Chronicle.  
> ST: ((He can probably serve as a tutor for Inks discovering her native Solar melee charms, at least enough for discounted training times.  
> Inks: (has he SEEN chronicle?  
> Inks: (heard of, maybe, but she's drawn it within the border of gem Twice  
> Inks: (once during her banishment demo, and in hinna's not-lab  
> ST: ((Yeah, she showed it off back when she first visited him in session 26.  
> Inks: (Ahh, gotcha  
> ST: ((But yeah, his reputation is as a battlefield leader and a war-sorcerer.  
> ST: ((So he can teach lots of Melee, War and Ride, and a _considerable repertoire_ of combat spells.  
> Inks: (part of what I'd go into post-mortem is that I fell into the trap of demon prejudice, and that Sun's jingoism extended to demons in his city  
> ST: ((heh  
> Inks: (okay so definitely no inksgame next week  
> ST: ((I may have gone a little too far there, though I did want you a bit worried.  
> Inks: (Eh, it works out in the end  
> Inks: (though I still don't get why Sun wanted them at his camp  
> ST: ((Still, I could probably have dropped a reassuring line like "he was straightforward enough that if he was going to kill or banish them he'd probably have done it on the spot"  
> ST: ((He basically dragged both of them back to... uh, well, diplomatically I'd say "ask to give him the full story of what happened with Hinna"  
> Inks: (Ahh. Okay  
> ST: ((but let's be real it's probably more accurate to say "interrogate with Presence charms on his home turf"  
> Inks: (Heh  
> Inks: (Tangentially related  
> Inks: (I'm kinda sad Sun beat Inks to 'Star Forts'  
> Inks: (I've always been a fan of them and half the reason I wanted RtEB was to make them fast  
> Inks: (it's a minor lament  
> ST: ((It's not quite a _proper_ star fort set up for bombardment tactics in full, just one that uses some of the principles.  
> ST: ((But yeah, then Bidaha proved to be a font of information who was very eager to offer him LOTS OF KNOWLEDGE, some of which proved useful in combination with stuff the rangers already knew.  
> Inks: (true enough, and I'm sure Inks can apply Solar Brilliance to new designs unheard of since the First Age  
> ST: ((So he went "right, keeping you" and threw her in the library to add to their intel stores. And basically gave Siyma an empty room to keep her out of the way.  
> Inks: (Heh  
> Inks: (Hmm. is Bidaha's Lore/Occult 6+?  
> Inks: (or just 5 and Inks's Ocultis only 3  
> ST: ((She's 5/5, so Inks is just as gorgeous as her in the SEXY LORE, but Bidaha's SULTRY MYSTICAL SECRETS have her flushed and wanting.))  
> ST: ((... god, that is such a hilarious effect.))  
> ST: ((Keris would be fucked.))  
> ST: ((Keris: *is Lore 2*))  
> ST: ((Keris: *eyes glaze over slightly*))  
> ST: ((... ironically that means Inks would find Keris almost as gorgeous as Keris found Inks.))  
> Inks: (Kek)  
> Inks: (Alright, so I suppose the important thing here is recognizing that the longest training times are going to be Attributes, at [Rating] months with a tutor. )  
> ST: ((And yeah, the average Lore 1-2 Occult 0 peasant...))  
> Inks: (So if Sun wants to train those, without actual Training Magic, (which he might very well have), It's a minimum of 2 months for Dex, Stam or Wits  
> ST: ((Yup. But I'll let you train those as, heh, Minor actions, if you're doing it without boosts - so you can fit other actions around them. Train Melee dots as one Minor action and Dex as another, for instance.))  
> Inks: (to say nothing of the efficiency of training Abilities and Styles first)  
> Inks: (Oh? Interesting. So you're deprecating the canon training times then)  
> Inks: (Hmm. That being said, Inks has favored Melee, Resistance, Integrity, Bureaucracy and Socialize. So of her unfavoreds, Athletics, Thrown and War are the most likely 'Minor Action' candidates...)  
> Inks: (This definitely gives a different color to how I thought the El-Galabi Arc was gonna go too, much longer paced, in my favor)  
> 


	41. Sesssion 41: Investigations of House Iblan

=== Session 41 ===

Breakfast found Inks deeply engaged in high-level negotiations of paramount importance.

"I want a prayer wheel," Gloria Riverstone told her, sitting cross-legged on the lip of the altar Inks had built for her. "One that's spinning all the time. With the water falling over it. It's not right for a bathhouse not to have a prayer wheel!"

Stretched out on one of the longer bench seats of warm stone, Inks laughs. "I see no reason why not. I have quite a bit on my plate at the moment, but..." Carsa, wonderful, attentive Carsa was there with a towel, inkstone and brush.

Jotting down notes as Gloria enumerated the various important features and ritual blessings that a proper prayer wheel a god of her station would require. "Something with Tumbaga or Orichalcum, if I could get it." Inks notes to herself.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+lore/occult to ballpark a design?)  
> ST: ((Int+(Lower of Occult and Craft). Diff 2 base.))  
> Inks: (Rolled 8d +2 autosux, 5 rolled sux, threshold 5)  
> 

  
  
"Oh, yes!" Gloria seemed delighted at that prospect. "Yes, those are the best kind! And... and attendants for the baths, with oils and perfumes and heated towels, and... fountains that arc high into the air, and steam-rooms..." The trickle of water from her towel-wrapped hair increased for a moment, and the infinitely-deep black jade colour of her robe misted over, like breath on a window, as she drifted off into memories of her last bathhouse. "Like Anamranthra," she murmured wistfully.

Then she gave a little sigh and straightened up. "You honour me as is proper," she said formally with a little bow. "Oh, but warn me next time you throw up a veil of mists again! I couldn't see part of my baths for a moment!"

"Apologies! Pipera enjoys privacy far more than I, so I wanted to treat her to a nice afternoon soak." Rising to her feet, Inks pulled on a dressing robe and stepped out into the sunny center of her courtyard. The water on her skin and hair evaporating in moments. Now where were Pipera and Vahti...?

Vahti, as it turned out, was still asleep. And naked. And devoid of any bedsheets, which had somehow in the time since Inks got up migrated from the bed to the curtain rail on the opposite wall. Pipera, though, had risen offensively early, breakfasted, and secluded herself for some private ritual in her room.

A note left stuck to her door promised that she would be finished presently, and that Inks should decide on the day's itinerary and whether they were to tackle Hinna's laboratory or the backer behind the attacks on Inks' businesses as their first priority.

"Hinna's lab, I think." Leaving Pipera to tend to her own peace of mind, Inks took a moment to visit the pantry and select one of the recently delivered fresh cuts of meat. Wandering the ground floor, she found Maji and some of her house staff lounging in the shadows of the courtyard, warmed by the morning sun but now in the shade.  
Sitting down next to her best and most tiger-boy, Inks broke apart some meaty morsels for his pleasure, grinning at the way the massive cat's mouth opened wide.  
  


>   
> Inks: (if Pipera is busy, waiting for her to finish is fine, and we can segue to Hinna's lab)  
> 

  
  
Much pleased with the treatment, Maji scarfed the food down, and then tilted his head at her. After a searching gaze of a few seconds, he gave a low rumble in his chest and set one massive paw across Inks' lap and pressed down. Its weight was as concrete and immovable as a small mountain.

The message was very clear. He wasn't going to let Inks go anywhere near the place she'd been held captive away from him for a month. The feeling coming across their bond was something like what Inks had felt a few times on the Coxati expedition when Pesala had, after almost falling down a ravine trying to peer over the side, immediately started craning her neck over _the same cliff edge as she'd almost just fallen down_. A kind of combination of exasperation and protectiveness.

"I'm taking you with me this time. The lab's much roomier and you can be all big and growly at anything mean left behind."

Maji considered this for a while, huffed, and removed the paw. The look he gave her stated very clearly that she wasn't going to be moving much more than a yard or two from his side at any point for the rest of the day, though.

Inks just leaned into his head and shoulders with a warm laugh. "Best tiger boy."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm good to move on unless you want me to take that lead)  
> 

  
  
Pipera wasn't much longer with her ritual, and after wrestling Vahti into some clothes, the quartet set out for the hidden passage stemming from Hinna's old place of business. The Despot had claimed the building and barred its doors, allowing nobody in but Inks, and despite her iconic appearance she still had to show her sorcerer's crest to the guards there.  
  


>   
> ST: ((What's Inks feeling about going back?))  
> Inks: (Hmm, my view is that she'stoo practical to be afraid, but valor 2, conviction 5. So roll valor and see if she's trembly?)  
> Inks: (Rolled 0 sux on 2d, so trembly it is! Conviction roll to advance despite the fear?)  
> ST: ((Yup! Or just suppress Compassion.))  
> ST: ((Uh, Valor.))  
> ST: ((... pay a WP to overcome the failed roll; you know what I mean))  
> Inks: (WP spent)  
> ST: ((Stunt it so we have some nice Inks-monologue.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Funny how fear worked- she'd been so brazen, arrogant even as she needled Hinna in her place of power. Now though, going back to the hideaway with allies and armed, the fear seemed to sneak up on her.

Inks could count on one hand the number of times she'd truly been afraid- most of them when she was younger and irrational. Her Exalting carried with it a sense of invulnerability that Hinna had cracked, but maybe that was for the best. As Inks and her party moved through the narrow passages, (Maji hiding in Inks's tattoo every so often), she realized more and more how claustrophobic and intimidating the place was.

The lab itself was still a mess, exactly as she had left it- it didn't look like the Despot had taken any obvious action. Aside from the dust on the tables and crystalline equipment. The four of them spread out, while Inks carefully explained everything that happened to her.

"Hinna had a backer, some demon of a higher circle, which let her bind more demons than I think she could have under normal circumstances. And she was part of a cult of Anathema... not worshipers, but she basically wanted the power of the Sun."

Turning to Pipera, Inks cocked her head to the side. "Don't worry about answering, but how did Exalting feel? Like, did you just suddenly _know_ you were... that?"

"I don't remember much of it," Pipera confesses quietly. She'd been silent as they walked down the cramped, stifling staircase to the depth of the Ring tunnels in single file, then back up at the fork until they reached that vertical shaft. And, well, there hadn't been much ability to talk on the way up, since the pulley-platform didn't have a convenient fly ogre to haul them up hundreds of metres to the chambers carved into the side of the rock.

At least the demonic spiders were gone.

"I was terrified," Pipera continued, looking far away, beyond the reddish stone of their surroundings and the bright shafts of sunlight that cut through the metres-deep arrow-slit windows. Peering through them revealed a view northward that stretched on for an unimaginable distance. Inks was fairly sure she could see the shape of the foothills around Cahzor at the edge of her vision.

"My fleet was gone, everyone was dead... I was sure I was going to join them. Clinging to a piece of timber; a shattered bit of mast from where that... _thing_ cleaved through out ship." Pipera shook her head. "And somewhere in the terror, Maela blessed me. Enough to survive, until a ship passed close by enough to see my flaring soul and fish me out."  
  


>   
> Inks: (...did not expect that. Did Pipera do all her tattoo deeds _before_ she Exalted? I'm trying to recall if she's the Last Kusaboin.)  
> Inks: (or if it was ever stated)  
> ST: ((She got her tattoos before she Exalted, yes. And she's not the last Kusaboin, there are other fleets - but her family fleet got wiped out to the last woman, yes.))  
> ST: ((From what Inks has picked up, each fleet is an extended family, and then other fleets are... cousins, basically? They're all one people, but cluster in related groups. You get the idea.))  
> 

  
  
"Uhmm..." Inks blinked once, twice, and faster than even she expected, Inks reached out to catch Vahti by the shoulder before she ambushed the prickly woman in a diving hug. Maji, again proving he is best boy, picked up on Inks's feelings and prowled around to nudge Pipera by the thigh, putting his brow and snout under her hand.

Pipera seemed to snap out of whatever fugue she'd entered, and steps back a few paces, adjusting her hair and smoothing down her jacket and doing the various other little things that let her get herself back under control and build her walls back up.

One hand strayed down to scratch behind Maji's ears nonetheless, and the flicker of a smile that crossed her face was as grateful and genuine as it was uncomfortable with displaying emotion and vulnerability in the first place.

"Yes, well," she said in her best professional tone. "Comparing ordeals gets us nowhere. What can we salvage from this place?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Perception+Investigation, base Diff.))  
> Inks: (stuntan, also using Crafty Observation Technique for solar bullshit speed- Investigation Actions w/o needing to manipulate the scene in 5 seconds)  
> 

  
  
"Well, Hinna wanted something she couldn't get, even if I wanted to let her have it." She wondered what happened to her captor, being swept up into Malfeas by her sabotaged ritual array. The remnants were still on the floor in fact, and Inks could probably repair them...

But that was maybe for another day. To Pipera's question, Inks grinned. "Lots. Hinna's big claim to fame was alchemy and solar-essence harnessing." She waved a hand at the scattered tables, the spilled scrolls piled over unbroken phials of liquefied sun and the hanging, dusty webbing of demon spiders. "Her demonology was tangentially related, I think."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So bullshit. Roll it.))  
> Inks: (Stunted, per 5, invest 4, +2 style)  
> Inks: (12d+8d)  
> Inks: (10 sux)  
> 

  
  
And indeed, the lab was mostly set up for alchemy. In fact... Inks gave a low whistle as she surveyed the scene. It was probably the single most advanced workshop she'd ever seen. There were broken tools here and there, it was in considerable disarray, and just from glancing at the reagents and draughts in the storerooms she could tell they'd all spoiled. It would take _considerable_ expense to get this place up and running again. But if she did...

... if she did, it would be a workshop equal to the best that even _Moto_ could field against her.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hinna's lab is a _Shogunate_ -level alchemy workshop, which is currently functional only at a master level but can be restored to its former glory for a one-time Res 5 cost.))  
> 

  
  
On top of that, the marks of Hinna's experimentation with essence refinement and irradiation were clear. The great lead chamber - Inks shuddered to look at it - with its slab of a door; the mirrors and refracting arrays for focusing and directing light, the lenses and containment jewels... yes, Hinna had left her a wealth of tools for working with and refining essence sources. Even dangerous ones.  
  


>   
> ST: ((It's also a master-level workshop for essence refinement and hazard sources involving radiative energy))  
> 

  
  
But the real prize was Hinna's _library_. There were spellbooks here - spellbooks describing the generalized means to summon demon lords that Hinna had aspired to, along with the ritual for her patron Tereki; the Assayer of Men. A demonic alter and a half-sized stone statue showed how she had communicated with her patron - and yes, the spell for that was here as well, alongside... Inks flipped through her work with interest - a ritual of elemental empowerment that she'd adapted to infuse objects with the nature of _sunlight_ , rather than one of the traditional five elements. Likely a step in her efforts to infuse more solar power into herself.

And there were three books that caught her eye among the interesting-but-not-critical volumes describing the Golden Sin Brotherhood and various technical works on alchemy.

"Whatcha looking at, boss?" Vahti asked, bouncing over and peering over Inks' shoulder. The book she was closing was, from a quick skim, a very useful little guidebook on how best to use various demons as servants, and next to it was an encoded notebook that seemed to originate from El Galabi. The one she had open at the moment was some sort of vague, cryptic collection of stories and rumours referring to holy places of the Sun in the desert.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Investigation, Diff 2, to notice something interesting in the third book as you skim through it.))  
> Inks: (14d)  
> Inks: (Remember how I was kinda off my game last session?)  
> Inks: (Today I rolled 12sux on 14d)  
> ST: ((Niiiiiiiice~))  
> 

  
  
One word in the book of legends caught Inks' eye. It only did so because she'd heard it just that morning, but... 'Anamranthra'. Wan't that interesting? Of course, the legend itself was bogus - something about an orichalcum staircase ascending into Heaven from the top of a mountain of pure gold out in the desert, which led to the healing-house of a goddess called 'Anamra' who seemed to be a mishmash of the female Sun worshipped to the west along with bits of Venus and Saturn; the whole thing smelled suspiciously like a grain of truth that had been conflated with so many things it had drowned long ago - but the name was an interesting coincidence.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Lore to see if she can remember anything that might shed light on its credubility. Diff 5.))  
> Inks: (Gonna turn on the castemark, i've spent 5m, 8m and 10m so far today)  
> Inks: (20d)  
> Inks: (10 sux)  
> Inks: (now 33m so far, earning 2m/back every... 5 seconds? Idk)  
> ST: ((Yeah, every action.))  
> Inks: (dramatic actions have wider intervals, be advised... Anyway go on!)  
> 

  
  
In fact... Anamranthra... _Anamra_... something about that jogged Inks' memory. Wasn't... wasn't there a river with a name like that? She frowned, thinking. No, not Anamra... Anam! The great river Anam, yes. She'd read about it in some of the history books she'd browsed - and Etiyadi's father had made a few vague references to it as well. Before the Contagion and the Balorian Crusade, there had been great fertile plains to the east of Gem, across the Scar, and Anam had been the greatest of the rivers that fed them. It had been a massive population centre with cities second only to shining Cahzor, but the storms of sand and fire that had slain the endless hordes of fae had burnt it dry, and all that depended on its lifeblood had perished.

Still. Perhaps there were a few things left along whatever path it had once traced.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. Lots of plothook fodder)  
> ST: ((:3))  
> Inks: (So I have a res 5 background, which I could burn 1 dot of to push into Hinna's lab, but I kinda want to wait for our resource hack to go live before I try that. A master alchemy and essence-harnessing lab is still great)  
> Inks: (and Solar Elemental Empowerment spell, huh? Def interest in seeing that at some point; we found the demon icon notes as well as a general archive of sorcerous lore.  
> ST: ((Yup. So you've got Sapphire Summon, the ritual for Tereki, Elemental Empowerment (Sun) and Invoking the Demon's Icon.))  
> Inks: (Oh dang, nice)  
> 

  
  
"Hmm. I think Ajjim would like to know about this River Anam... Worth asking at least..." Inks mused aloud. "Let's get the papers and scrolls sorted and off the floor. If anything's broken, bring it over to me."

With the duties outlined, Inks took it up on herself to look for the broken tools as well, quickly restoring them to wholeness whenever possible with her own innate skill of craft and repair. Glass fused together under her touch, as she whispered chants that beckoned their least gods to remember their whole and humble glory.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Crack Mending Technique on any repairable-objects, and then I think we can mosey on out to deal with House Najjar)  
> ST: ((And then an encoded book that seems to originate from El Galabi and which Hinna has obviously spent a great deal of effort making no progress whatsoever on, a vague collection of stories about Solar manses and demesnes in the desert that will need a Minor action to decipher and cross-reference before you can start pinning them to locations on a map, and a helpful text that's basically The Demon Summoner's Cheat Sheet which has all kinds of suggestions about how to use combinations of demons to get things done, and was obviously written by someone who was a) very knowledgeable and b) very enthusiastic about making demons do things for them.))  
> Inks: (neat!)  
> 

  
  
Prizes in hand and smug grin on her face, Inks and company convinced Maji to not destroy the central lead irradiation chamber that had caused his mistress such strife and trauma, and descended once again down the great vertical lava tube on the rickety pulley-platform.

By unanimous verdict, replacing the thing with something sturdier and tasking a demon with actual upper body strength to staff it was added to the To-Do list as a priority.

Then it was off to the books, to track down the source of their newest and most abstract enemy so far. Or perhaps not newest, Inks mused, thinking back to the attack on the townhouse that Tatters had thwarted and the rumour campaign the Despot had put down. Maybe "least obvious" would be a better description. Whoever it was, they were certainly proving themselves a nuisance.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so. This is going to be a contested Perception+(lower of Investigation and Bureaucracy) roll against your opponents in House Najjar to find out who's backing them. There are two essential ways to do this; one is to get access to their books directly (they are unlikely to cooperate in this, so it would require Stealth and Larceny stuff to get at them) and go through their records, the other is to survey what's known about their   
> 

  
  
House to determine _who_ would know and pick out someone you can press for information. Or it would be, if Pipera didn't have Confluence of Savant Thought, which lets her instantly understand the inner workings of any bureaucracy she encounters, such as who is in charge of tasks and where equipment such as secret information is kept. So that'll just be picking out a target and pressing them for the info.))  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmmm...)  
> ST: ((Notably, Tatters is A SNEKY SNEAK and could do a Larceny mission, so it's a matter of whether you want to steal their ledgers and go through them at the dead of night, or pick the most likely-to-fold sucker from Pipera's list and pressure them into spilling their guts.))  
> Inks: (Hmmm.... We shall send Tatters for starters, to nin!nin! her way through things)  
> Inks: (Shall I write the dramatic stunt of her espionage?)  
> ST: ((By all means. She... hang on a mo...))  
> ST: ((... yeah, she succeeds. She just succeeds. I'm not even going to bother rolling for that. This is the most ridiculously unfair contest since Inks last had dinner with Brushed Sand Salib.))  
> Inks: (Hahhaa, okay, so I write stuff though?)  
> 

  
  
Returning to the townhouse with a plan on her mind, Inks sought out Tatters with a mission briefing. For a moment she felt like the 'culture heroes' of the plays her family went to, the brigands and crime lords who dispatched their nefarious agents to untoward tasks. Usually the agents were intimidatingly tough sorts or sleek and demure beauties in flattering outfits. 

Tatters was neither, but Inks was still a product of Nexus. So when the assassin agreed to the infiltration mission, Inks admittedly imagined something far more dramatic and flattering than what likely happened in the dead of night. Tatters, artfully silhouetted by the full moon (it was cloudy that night). Dexterous sneaking through the shadows and evading employees- (Tatters bought a case of cheap booze and left it out for them to partake)...

Well, Inks was sure it'd have been a page turner and a steamy one if she were writing it. The reality though was much less aesthetic but far more useful. Tatters returned not even four hours later, arms laden with ill-gotten paperwork.

Dumping the files on the table, Tatters dusted off her hands. "Their security is terrible," she commented idly. "Nobody even saw me. Anyway, you have about six hours to go through it before it needs to be back where it was without anyone knowing it was gone. Oh, and Inks? I..." she glanced at Pipera, who was already reading through the ledgers with blurring speed. "... have an offer to relay to you later."

Inks winked, smiling brightly. "Looking forward to it. Take whatever time you need, but we won't be long." Inks started pouring over the documents as well, not quite as quickly as Pipera, but still fairly fast.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So is this the contested invest roll?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Hang on while I... right, yeah. Opposing pool is 7 dice, +2 external penalty on your side for doing this in something of a hurry.))  
> ST: ((First who gets +5 over the opponent wins.))  
> Inks: (Limited teamwork or full teamwork?)  
> ST: ((Each roll is an hour of research, and Pipera gives you a full +3 bonus because she's amazing.))  
> ST: ((First roll. House Najjar gets 3 sux.))  
> Inks: (okay, I don't think artful deduction works here, it's not a forensic accounting style, so just int 5 invest 4 + 4 autosux, +3d from Pipera)  
> Inks: (...9 rolled sux +4 autosux, -2 external penalty for a total of 11)  
> Inks: (Good use of penalties and modifiers though)  
> ST: ((welp, that was a long, arduous, neck-and-neck contested roll that Inks barely won by a total and complete effortless trivialization of her opponent within the first half hour.))  
> Inks: (Soooolaaaaars!)  
> Inks: (Ah, clarify- is this still falling into strategic action timescale? My training was kinda planned around that,but if not I can adjust)  
> ST: ((Well, this is just getting the name of the backer. So you've done Hinna in a Trivial action, and this is basically your first step in sorting out what's going on with this economic attack.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, just curious0  
> 

  
  
There was good news, and there was bad news. The good news was that it took less than half an hour for Inks and Pipera to home in on the ineptly-hidden thread of transactions and agreements that was bankrolling House Najjar's attempt to take the wet-industry monopoly and ruthlessly tear it apart until they reached the end of the trail.

That was pretty much the only good news.

"House _Iblan_ ," Pipera groaned as Tatters took off to return the pilfered documents to their rightful places. "Of all the Great Houses, why did it have to be them? Second only to the Despot in wealth, roots that go back to the founding of Gem, close ties to the Despot because they've _never_ made a play for the throne... Dragons, they're even at odds with the Trasti, who you've already got an implicit alliance with! And Iblan Bana has a feud with Sahlak Janissa that half the _Coxati_ probably know about, it's that public..." She hisses. "I should have _known_ this. Digging into the documents should just have been a formality."

"It did seem the most likely." Inks admitted. "After I started up Hepatizon and the Despot ruled it wasn't 'Precious Metal'." She hummed, thinking.

"So-" Inks began. "We have to assess the target, understand their assets and structures. The keys to their power." She leaned back in her seat while Tatters scooped up the stolen ledgers and prepared to replace them without incident. "They're pissed at me, so I can't really gladhand my way into their good books right now...".  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Socialize, Diff 2, to guess at Bana's reasons for opposing Inks.))  
> Inks: (8d +2 autosux)  
> Inks: (rolled 5 for total 7, threshold 5)  
> 

  
  
"... it's not just the hepatizon," Pipera says; her head in her hands. "Iblan Bana... she's an old woman. No time for nonsense. She pursues profit, but her main goal is..."

"Sustainability," Inks finished for her, realization dawning in her own mind. Yes, she'd heard that too. The ancient matriarch of House Iblan was infamously austere and conservative; keeping a watchful eye on the markets and moving against anything that threatened Gem's economic stability or ability to support itself. Piercing Sun thought well of her for that... but apparently the old woman had a different view of where Inks fell on the scale of asset and threat to the Dragonblooded commander.

"So she sees me as a destabilizing influence then." Inks decided. "Which y'know, is _true_ , but I like to think I'd help raise overall quality of life and wealth than not." She grinned at Pipera. "So do you fancy taking over a great house of Gem?"

Pipera pursed her lips. "Taking over? No. Too dangerous," she said clinically. "House Iblan dates back to the founding of Gem. They've got too much weight of tradition to..." she shook her head, "I'm not saying you _couldn't_ do it. But have you thought through how Gem would react to the decapitation and subversion of such a deep-set part of its history? Deposing Iblan Bana for someone less objectionable is one thing, taking over outright... is another."

"Speak for yourself!" Vahti huffed, planting herself sideways in Inks' lap. "It sounds like a _fantastic_ idea to me. Just picture how many golden pretties you could deck yourself out with! You could upgrade their tumbaga works to produce more and give Gloria a dozen prayer wheels of the stuff!" She ran a finger down Inks' chest, grinning. "Or make a solid gold statue of yourself to greet people coming in the front door! Gem would get over it; it's not like the Great Houses are sacred here or anything."

"Gem's known as the make it or break it down for a reason." Inks agreed with a smirk. She idly grabbed Vahti's hand and put it where it would do the most good, grinning wider. "But you're both right. If we see a chance to take it over artfully, then I see no reason why we can't try. But for the moment, we're going to assume a careful approach." When Vhatis' fingers wriggled, Inks offered her a telling look. "Don't escalate if you're not sure you can win."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Vhati is best FWB)  
> Inks: (On an xp note, I had to adjust my spending because I needed Invest 4 for Soul's Price, so the 3xp for the War Style has been re-allocated. I'm otherwise 100% on XP allotment)  
> ST: ((Feel free to stunt your approach.))  
> Inks: (aha)  
> 

  
  
The first step, in Inks's mind, was two-fold. To Pipera, she asked a few questions, summed up as "If a house like Iblan were to collapse or undergo a big change, what could happen to Gem? I need an idea of what to watch out for if things go that far."

Inks could likely make her own predictions (and would), but for the moment she wanted to break the bigger problem into smaller ones. Enlisting Vahti as her backup, she spent a few days feeling out her own allies. Gathering intelligence from House Trasti and House Sahlak for starters. Janissa was a great help in offering information, though somewhat biased...

Building a picture of her own assets and backing, Inks started to hit the social scene, arranging for invites to allied meetings and parties. Specifically scenes where House Najjar attended. This was just the initial efforts...

Leveraging her charm and reputation, Inks eased her way through the social strata, asking polite questions and winkling important nuggets of useful information. Who's who, who backed who and why. The richest of the rich in House Najjar and the other satellite supporters that insulated House Iblan from other interest in general and Inks specifically.

One thing Inks was willfully avoiding, was asking the Despot for help. He had to maintain a pretense of public impartiality, and leaning on her backing as a court sorcerer over an economic issue would have likely not ended well for anyone.

Of her targets though, Najjar was the most obvious and easiest- a guileless move that she was sure Iblan would take as 'just as we planned'. By defanging their patsy, Inks was sure Iblan would feel content to try again someday. But if all went well, Inks would come out of her investigations one asset richer...  
===  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so Inks is basically going to parties, relying on her charm and reputation to meet with important people, and build a socialize map of intrigue and who's who with House Najjar and by extension House Iblan. She's not overtly asking like 'whos' trying to oust me', she's just meeting people and gathering information.  
> 

  
  
Related to that is she's probably invoking Pipera's power-player sense to speed this up too. My end goal is 'Inks knows a lot about House Najjar and how to break/turn them' and 'More about House Iblan'.))  
===  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay... hmm. Roll... Charisma+Investigation, for Inks' schmoozing and charming, at base Difficulty.))  
> Inks: (stunt?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, 2... what's Inks' new Motivation?))  
> Inks: (Ah damn I had it in mind a few days ago but I forgot. Uhm... )  
> Inks: (Hmm... I was talking about recognition and her desire for peer approval, but that was more an intimacy, and then her celestial sacrifice of 'willing to make enemies')  
> Inks: (I got nothin, I'll take the hit, sadly)  
> ST: ((2 dice, then))  
> Inks: !ex 16 "cha 2 invest 4 +2 style, +2 stunt, +6 1st ex" Inks: [2, 7, 8, 4, 4, 5, 4, 2, 10, 3, 3, 2, 7, 2, 8, 5] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
"Chaos," was the rough gist of Pipera's lecture on possible outcomes of House Iblan collapsing entirely. There would be a mad scramble for the monopoly on producing Gem's coinage, the precious metal production would become the centre of an economic melee, and the Iblan treasuries would, one way or another, empty back into the city - assuming the Despot didn't act quickly to seize them. Indeed, Pipera noted, it was unlikely Rankar would or even _could_ afford to let the House fold entirely; it was just too big and too critical a piece of Gem to not cause utter mayhem in its death throes and the subsequent feast.

A major change, on the other hand... well, that would depend on how major. Certainly, Inks got the impression - reading between the lines of Pipera's caution - that it was _possible_ a takeover could be made with only a survivable amount of rocking to Gem's boat. Replacing the current leaders of the house with more well-inclined members might even be possible to do with only a few ripples - and that would have the added bonus that the Despot probably wouldn't care one whit for the internal restructuring.

House Najjar, she found, was more or less a patsy. They were a minor house that had a stake in Gem's sewage systems - no true monopoly, but they did roughly half to two-thirds of the work in keeping the cesspits cycling, the mushroom farms fed and the sewer-tunnels unclogged. They had been a fairly believable choice to back for a bid on the wet industries, and indeed already had some side-businesses in that area. One of the smaller players on Gem's political scene, Inks concluded; keenly aware of competitors snapping at their heels and with their sights set on the wealth and security that a powerful monopoly would grant them.

With House Iblan, she ran into a problem. People weren't talking to her. Oh, they'd _speak_ to her, briefly, about shallow things like the weather (hot), the food (also hot) and her chosen outfit for whatever party it was (you guessed it; hot again). But when she or Pipera or anyone connected to her tried to probe deeper; they clammed up. Anyone with any real knowledge of how House Iblan worked had obviously been given strict orders that volunteering such information to the Lady Inks would not put them in favour with their Head of House.

She found that Iblan Bana did not rule her house alone; that she had a council of seven she relied on and conferred with and was - at least in theory - answerable to. She knew their names and their roles; from brilliant Pipera and her instinctive sense for Bureaucracy. But more in-depth details would take rather more in-depth investigation - and probably a different approach, since there appeared to be a general gag order in place regarding her inquiries.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Cut there to avoid droning on and on; I can give you the names and roles OOC or she can prompt Pipera to list them shortly.))  
> Inks: (I was about to comment that this sounded more like a gag order than 'Inks failed the roll', which is a good thing overall)  
> ST: ((heh, sync))  
> Inks: (How long did the above schmoozing take in days/weeks?)  
> ST: ((Two weeks of parties and schmoozing and meeting peeps. Inks has effective contacts in House Najjar now - not in Background dot terms, but it may negate certain external penalties if she does more with them in future, etc.))  
> Inks: (nice)  
> ST: ((Also she can get that meeting with Tatters out of the way during that period, if you want to RP that.))  
> Inks: (Probably can do a bunch of stuff, writans.)  
> 

  
  
Taking a break from the social circuit, Inks made a tour of her personal holdings, ending with Soft Ash and the orphanage, resolving to address the demonblooded children. She remembered wanting to employ Simya, or at least summon another neomah that could soften their demon traits.

Returning home with Vahti and Maji at her side, Inks eased through her townhouse's gated entrance and let out a gusty sigh. She saw Pipera at the ground floor table, pouring over papers as usual. When she looked up to greet her employer, Inks was already stepping out of her dress and into the pool.

"Exhbiti..." Pipera trailed off, watching Vahti outright throw herself out of her clothes and into the water. ".bitionits." She emphasized the plural with a wrinkle of her nose and sighed.

"Ahh you know you love the scenery." Inks laughed, sliding into the water. "Do you have a list of Iblan's councilors?"

"Mmm," Pipera hummed. "Iblan Bana rules through, and with, a council of seven. Iblan Omar, her second son, is the Master of the Mint. Iblan Flickering Gold runs the house treasury, while Iblan Virtuous Jade is the High Priestess and envoy to the Iblan house gods."

She walked over to the edge of the baths, slipping her shoes off and hiking up her skirt enough to sit down on the side and dangle her legs in the water up to the knees. "Iblan Jad Raheem is the last of what I would guess to be the truly crucial members Bana sits on; the Smelter-Captain in charge of the ore refineries and casting pits. Then the council is rounded out by Iblan Alya - Bana's... third granddaughter, I believe, Iblan Rose Marble as the Attaché to the City who deals with permits and hiring and so on, and Iblan Kahlill; their head of in-house security." A brief look of distaste crossed her face. "By which I mean private corps of thugs and legbreakers who enforce their monopoly and guard their vaults and smelting yards."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Whoops; forgot to include - Iblan Alya is the chief foreign officer; she deals with external trade and outreach.))  
> ST: ((The first four are crucial; the other three less so since House Iblan can survive perfectly well with just Gem business, can split up permits and executive work between its branches, and has more than enough funds to hire mercenaries instead of having its own in-house group of thugs - they're nice to have, but not crucial keys to power.))  
> ST: ((That said, Bana is answerable to the board as a whole, and the more members turned against her, the more trouble she's going to have.))  
> 

  
  
Inks whistles. "Certainly sounds like they've got a handle on delegation. Hmmm." Leaning against an angled bit of stone next to Pipera's perch that dips into the water, Inks cradles her head on her folded arms while Vahti jumps in to offer an eager massage-to help Inks think, so she'd rationalize. Inks wasn't going to complain.

"So based on what we know so far, a possible angle is to lean on the council to in turn lean on Bana. She's a hundred years old though..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (She's not a DB, is she? Or some publicly known supernatural?)  
> ST: ((Nope; as far as anyone knows she's just a _really old_ woman who shows no signs of slowing down despite her age. Though there are rumours of earth elemental blood in the Iblan family, so she might have some good genetics helping her there.))  
> 

  
  
While Vahti worked on a particularly stubborn knot, Inks hummed against her arms. "Offering gifts and appeasement won't work- because no matter what, what I want is too disruptive for Bana's tastes... and nearly everything I know how to do or want to do relies on gold or precious metals...."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm trying to think of the Inksian approach/goal here, as opposed to the 'rational, ideal player approach'. Nothings making me rub my hands in glee yet, so I'm still thinking.)  
> 

  
  
Perking up, Inks looked to Pipera. "Does Iblan control the import of precious metals?"

"Yes," Pipera said, dashing her hopes. "I'd advise more research, honestly. Tatters can likely observe them in a way they can't just clam up against, and we can reach out to our contacts in other Houses for a rival's view of the council - there must be some people who know them. Or-"

"Why not just force a meeting?" Vahti spoke up from where she'd migrated down to Inks' thighs. "I mean... I'm pretty sure you can bull your way onto her itinerary even if she tries to keep you off it. It'd piss her off and make her see you as even more of a disruptive whatever, but she already thinks that. And she's working against you anyway, so why _not_ just get face-to-face with her and lay it out on the table? See what she does when   
you state it outright."

"...I like that idea more than I feel I should admit." Inks grinned. "I think Iblan's gag order on discussing themselves is going to make things tough either way- I like the idea of sending Tatters in for more espionage too."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Good use of Vahti here, I knew I could have forced a meeting, but I was too enraptured in following Pipera's suggestions as ST gospel.)  
> 

  
  
"Clearly the solution is to do all of the above and more if we can. I'll see if I can push for a meeting with Bana..." She pushed away from the rock to more fully face Pipera. "Do you want to research behind the lines, or advise me at my side when we do this?"

"While we're standing out and keeping Bana's attention on us, we can have Tatters sneak in and investigate things as well."  
  


>   
> Inks: ('m thinking we can do this all pretty easily. Inks and co meet Bana, Tatters does Espionage, and I think just before that, I hear out what Tatters wants to say.))  
> 

  
  
"I'll come with you, if only to see if I can pick up on anything you miss," Pipera decided after a moment's thought. "It'll no doubt be a while before you manage to force an appointment with her, but I suppose that gives Tatters plenty of time to follow the council around and pry into their personal lives. Hmm." She nods. "Very well, I can see you're committed to this. I'll support your play."

Inks grinned. "C'mon! It'll be fun! We're tweaking the nose of the second most powerful monopoly in Gem!"

"Joy," Pipera deadpanned.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (Pipera's skintone is dark right?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

  
  
Tatters was still jumpy, and still sleeping in the manor every few nights when the need for sleep became too much. She fidgeted more than usual, and her veils were in slight disarray as Inks sat down with her in the second warded room she'd set up so that Tatters didn't have to share with Trasti Gion. Asking the exorcist for another favour was one goal here - but she hadn't forgotten the mysterious 'offer' Tatters had mentioned relaying. 

"You wanted to talk?" Inks had entered with a tray of food and drink, handmade mostly because she could. Oranges were a delicacy in Gem, and extracting every bit of juice was a fun challenge.

"I wanted to thank you for letting me stay here, to start," Tatters said, picking over the food tentatively. "It's very kind of you. You're sure I'm not a bother?"

"A mystery, never a bother." Inks smiles. "I pride myself on my hospitality, so a guest who almost never asks for anything is both a blessing and a challenge." She softened the comment with a wink. "Not that you need to ask anything if you don't need it. But my altruistic streak is well known."

"It is." Tatters sounded softer, and Inks thought she might be smiling behind the veil - though she wasn't sure she'd convinced her that she wasn't a burden. Still, her mysterious friend was moving forward, so Inks hastened to pay attention.

"While you were away, I was working with the local Underworld," Tatters confessed. "Reaching out to them, solving some problems... my duties; between living and dead. One of the..."

She paused, thinking. "Did you know that Dead Gem isn't independent?" she asked after a moment; restarting. "In the realms of death; Cahzor was never unseated from its dominance. Dead Gem is one of their satrapies. I spoke with... one of my contacts, trying to get more information on El Galabi, and she led me to the Jansi-satrap who rules Dead Gem... and he had an offer for me. Uh, for you, I mean. An offer for me to convey."

"Huh."

Keeping her thoughts to herself- mostly about Pipera's reaction to this- Inks nodded and urged Tatters to continue. "Go on."

Tatters breathed in and out; a rattling wet sigh. "Dead Cahzor watched as El Galabi fell and the world tore open to touch the world beneath. They watched as the creatures there slaughtered the Realm legionnaires who had slain them. The Old Man in the temple is too strong for them to attack themselves... but if you can banish or kill that dreadful beast; Dead Cahzor is willing to lend you troops. Ghostly soldiers, with the experience and skill of centuries, who can flank the shadowland from beneath and aid in reclaiming it - and even in closing the shadowland, afterwards."

That did not, to Inks, sound like an offer without a price attached.

"Did they ask what they wanted in return?"

"The yidak," Tatters said flatly. "As many of the sun-yidak his students became as possible. They will capture them and shackle them and break them like hounds; to bolster their forces with ferocious beasts who in life were more than mortal men. Should their king be crippled and shackled but not killed; Dead Cahzor will pay you a queen's bounty for it, that they might feast on its power."

"Well... shit." Inks slumped in her seat. "I don't think I can meet that price." Pipera was the sticking point, and she was pretty sure Pipera's contract of employment boiled down to 'erase the dead from existence'.

So something to work on, sure, but Pipera was simply too valuable to alienate over metaphysical pragmatism... "Hmm... Give me an idea of how to offer my sincerest thanks for the offer, like what ritual or sacrifice they'd prefer. For the moment I don't think I can accept the offer." She didn't say that capturing the Yidak or utilizing it herself wasn't something she was already thinking of too...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Technically it's "work against the Dead's hold on Creation", but yeah, giving Dead Cahzor a large group of powerful yidak to bolster their military would _probably not sit well with her_.))  
> Inks: (Depends then if Cahzor's goals are 'Conquer the Underworld' vs 'Conquer Creation')  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

  
  
"But, if and when you do check on your contacts, give me an idea of Old Cahzor's goals. I'd rather not arm the nation that marches on Living Gem, after all."

Tatters shrugged. "I thanked him with the Five Gifts, and I don't think he'll take offence if you refuse..." She paused, considering. "Though he will probably station troops beneath the shadowland to capture any yidak that flee," she added. "Dead Cahzor is... it's in trouble, honestly. There's not enough ancestor worship in the city above to sate them, and the newer domain above them is swelling with ghosts who know nothing of the ancient ways. Dead Cahzor is sinking. It holds its place only by plundering its satrapy-domains, like Dead Gem. They'll do anything to cling close to Creation and stop the Rivers carrying them deeper."

Inks nodded slowly. "Interesting. So not really an imperial threat right now."

"... not to the living world, no," Tatters temporized.

"Well, that's the world I'm most concerned about at the moment, so..." Inks shrugged." "On the note of living Gem, we're going to be moving further against House Iblan. Would you be willing to investigate the seven councilors that Iblan Bana answers to? Scandals, leverage, general intelligence. anything we can use to put the screws to Bana herself and her backers."

Tatters cocked her head, and Inks felt a raised eyebrow behind the veil. "What... for?" she asked cautiously. "I mean, why are you moving against House Iblan? Not that I don't think you have good reasons! Just..."

"They're trying to buy up all my properties and run me out of Gem, basically." Inks explained. "Or at the very least prevent me from 'destabilizing' things more. I'm hoping your efforts can help paint a fuller picture as to why as well."

"Ah." The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. "Then yes, I will investigate them." Was Inks imagining it, or was there a little more stress on that word than there should be?

"Don't kill anyone. I'd rather not escalate that far."

"... of course." Hopefully that was acknowledgment, and not disappointment. Tatters rose. "Do you have a list of the councillors and where they might be found? I can find out, but it'll be faster if I know what you already know."

"I do!" Inks pulled the sheaf of papers from beneath the meal tray. "Courtesy of Pipera, with summaries."

Tatters nodded gratefully, taking them from the tray and starting to read through them. After a few moments she nodded. "I understand. I'll tell you when I find things out? Or shall I just build up everything before letting you know it all at once?"

"The latter is fine, I'll be rattling Bana's cage in the coming days."

"Right." Tatters departed, leaving Inks alone with her thoughts.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (...Oh god, ST. I have the stupidest, best idea.)  
> ST: ((... oh?))  
> Inks: (Basically the brassiest thing possible to get Bana to pay attention to Inks.)  
> 

  
  
Disruptive? Destabilizing? Audacious? The first two weren't very flattering, but Inks liked the sound of the third one. Turning her hands to another attempt at dressing to impress, Inks retrieved her stockpile of textiles and turned to them with a will. Having a better handle on Pipera's sense of style, she made sure to do a better job than last time.

"Smart, with a cut sharp enough to cut glass. And a rich dark blue to set off your complexion." Inks spoke to herself, envisioning Pipera in her latest masterpiece. Her hands glowed with sunfire, along with the sheers, needle and silk thread. Under the right light, Pipera's long, figure-hugging jacket and skirt would look like the fathomless depths of the ocean.

For Vahti, her garb as always emphasized her core and hips, and how her compact figure was so robustly curvaceous. Red always tended to set off green, so Inks erred in favor of a rich crimson and ruby red that was accented by crushed gemstones in the weave.

Inks erred in favor of the brief and flattering, enjoying how lighter pastels and whites set off the darker vibrant colors of her tattoo. Instead of precious metals, Inks used ordinary steel chain links to bridge the panels and hems, polished to a mirror sheen.

Armored up, so to speak, Inks set the wardrobe aside in favor of more immediate preparations. She leaned on what contacts she had, speaking as contract holder of her wet industries and her own proto-monopoly. Using that pretense, she sought audience with House Iblan, and Iblan Bana in specific.

Of course, Inks did this in the most her-way possible. On one sunny morning, just as the people of Gem rose from their beds to move away from the sweltering heat, a woman and her tiger hit the streets. This was just the opening move- the move to engage. Her target was the main mint of Iblan, which doubled as the currency exchange and assayership of Gem. Men and women in guarded queues- for the mint's safety as much as their own.

Hired or bound guards were no strange thing- though Inks was the only one with an obviously magical sentry at her side. Her reputation preceeded her, and apparently someone in Iblan had given specific instructions to bring her into a side office. Inks greeted the man with no small amount of politeness- he was just doing his job, but he'd be her messenger all the same.

Declining to stand, she looked across the desk at the Iblan official, disarmingly beautiful as always, but with an edge of purpose. Reaching into her cleavage, Inks pulled out a coin to roll on her knuckles, once, twice. And then flicked it into the air before catching it. The bureaucrat's eyes locked onto the coin as it sailed into her snatching palm.

Rapping the coin on the desk, Inks let it fall face up- showing it as Gem's own currency... with Inks's own face emblazoned upon it. "Inks of Gem would like to meet with Iblan Bana at her earliest convenience. Thank you."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Heh. I think we'll leave it at that dramatic finish?))  
> Inks: (Sounds good, can we roll for the Speed the Wheels part?)  
> Inks: (and XP?)  
> ST: ((Go for it. You've got a -4 penalty on the roll, because Bana is _very much_ trying to delay the fuck out of you.))  
> ST: ((3-die stunt for being an audacious daughter-of-a-bitch.))  
> Inks: !ex 23 +1 -4 "int 5 Bur 5 +10 excellency +3 stunt, +1sux fromwp); Inks: [9, 10, 4, 2, 5, 3, 7, 2, 5, 10, 8, 1, 6, 2, 5, 7, 3, 4, 7, 8, 3, 4, 6] was rolled for 20 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Ah, I think the formatting derped)  
> Inks: (Yeah, that was only 7 rolled sux)  
> Inks: (oh yeah I forgot StW adds ESs autosux; so 7 rolled +1 wp atuo +4 charm auto)  
> Inks: So charm effect: Divide the time it takes to 'start a project' by Ess+1,so 5 in this case, minimum of 1 season.  
> ST: Cool. So, Bana's ideal time to meet with Inks in person is "never", and she has put effort into barring Inks from getting any form of meeting.  
> ST: Inks, however, is Extremely Persistent, and thus has a meeting set up a season from now that Bana can't wriggle out of.  
> Inks: dohohoh  
> Inks: solaaars!  
> ST: 6xp +2mxp +2Sxp for good play, a long session and some sorcerous discovery in Hinna's lab.  
>   
> 


	42. Session 42: Training With Piercing Sun

Elemi Piercing Sun's war room sits high in the fort he has created on the southern slopes of Gem, with sweeping views out over the walls through deep-set windows that keep the worst of the dry heat away. Trophies hang from every wall not occupied by windowspace; an eclectic collection that ranges from the elemental masks of the Yar-Yan to the firedust-rubbed spears of the sand tribes to the heads of deyha giant hyenas. Most of them, Inks doesn't even recognize the origins of.

His patchwork armour is on a stand in one corner of the room, overlooking the large table that dominates the centre of the space. Today, it's been set up as a model battlefield; a trio of hills with a fort dominating the top of the smallest; a single incline leading up to the walls where every other hill face is sheer in a way that must have been partly engineered.

Piercing Sun himself is lounging in a great teak chair that almost deserves the description of "throne"; two skulls that look vaguely canine and about the size of Maji's mounted on its back.

He appears to be napping.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks may (melo)dramatically enter as she wishes. :P))  
> 

  
  
There is a time and place for decorum, to be the polished gem of poise and grace that Inks knew she was capable of. In the war room of Elemi Piercing Sun, her entrance is punctuated by not one but two cavernous yawns, as both the Solar and her god-tiger saunter in. "I'm here!" She beamed.

The old man cracks an eye open, grumbles quietly and reaches for his dragon-headed staff to lever himself up; apparently by habit since he no longer suffers from a weak leg. "Good," he greets her. "You can be punctual; that's something half my young rangers can't seem to manage these days. So, girl, you want to learn about war, yes? About how to plan a campaign, how to size up a battlefield, how to take a rabble and lead them to victory. 

Why?" He thumps his staff on the floor for emphasis. "You could spend that time learning sorcery instead. Battle spells; ways to shake the earth and summon up flames and cast open even the homes of the gods. What makes you want to lead armies yourself, eh?"

The challenging glint in his eye is enough to tell her the question is a test. Everything is, with this man.

"Hmmm." It was a question that deserved some thought, but she had some answers already on her mind. "I think that even though I want to learn battle sorcery as well, I would be better off knowing the ways of warfare and campaigning alongside it." She walked around the model battlefield, taking it in with a curious eye. "Even just at a glance, I know that this is a defensible fort what with the sheer walls and obvious lines of fire."

"But I'm sure there are subtleties of the military science that I'm missing. And I think that's the other part- I just like learning, to become skilled if not master a discipline, to... know it. And be recognized for my mastery."

"Of course, in the practical, I want to be good enough to succeed at my goals, I can polish my skills with time and experience."

"And you're planning to go take El-Galabi," Piercing Sun says knowingly; fixing her with a narrow gaze. "You're planning a great assault on that death ground and the things in it. Aye, I remember the young fool who built there, and what happened to him. You mean to take back the city he built and the Realm slew."

"Yep. It's on my to-do-list." Inks's teeth flashed, smiling.

"And if I told you it was a fool's errand, and that young Rankar has no idea what it'll cost him?" Piercing Sun asked, baring his teeth in a matching grin. "What would you do then, sun-girl? Would you still seek to learn the arts of war? Seek allies elsewhere, even if denied my rangers, and try to take it anyway?"

"I would adapt to the changing circumstances." Inks declared. "I'm aiming to reduce the risks to myself and others. This is dangerous, lethally so. I want to do this with eyes as wide open as I can manage, and prepared accordingly." She paused for a moment, cocking her head to one side and idly scratching Maji's brow.

"You mentioned costs- when I examined El-Galabi, it was a place of extreme light and shadow, where the darkness was outlined with ruler-straight edges. Have you and the Rangers explored it more throughly before?"

"Hah!" He threw his head back in a laugh and slammed his staff down again. "Pretty words, but you'd still go for it. Good! First lesson of war for you, girl. There are generals who grow too bold or too fanatic in their causes, and they always fail, but those who lack courage or commitment never become generals at all. Hold the middle ground. El-Galabi itself we'll talk on later - first, the lesson. Look here."

He rapped the model hill fort. "This is An-Etana. Gone now; only a ruin left, but back in the day it was a Cahzorite fort that sat on the approach to their rotting capital. Small, but perfectly placed to destroy any attempt at besieging Cahzor itself by fucking over the supply lines and pincering us from behind. It had to go."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, An-Etana looks something like https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/14/Israel-2013-Aerial_21-Masada.jpg, with a couple of larger hills bracketing it on one side and a traversable incline forming a ramp up to the southern side.))  
> ST: ((Inks knew in advance that Piercing Sun was going to be using examples of real battles to teach her, so has she been a good girl and kept a clear mind, or has she been sneaky and looked up Piercing Sun's past victories to see what tactics he used in them?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... let's see how he responds to sneak, int+lore/invest to research?)  
> ST: ((Heh. Diff 3 Int+Lore to recall details of the siege of An Etana, then.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +3; Inks: [2, 2, 9, 9, 2, 1, 9, 6, 1, 5] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (if it flows better, you can use Inks to voice this information instead telling me OOC)  
> 

  
  
An-Etana. Inks certainly knew _that_ name. This was one of the first battles that had earned Piercing Sun his reputation of being able to break any defence and besiege any stronghold. It had been one of his first solo commands in the Cahzor campaign; back when he was a young man with the Dragon's fire hot in his veins and thirsty for glory.

She recalled the stories about how he'd raised circumvallation walls around the proud fortress, before using elementals to crack their walls and force them out into battle. Apparently he'd dueled the leader of the garrison himself; an Earth Aspect decades his senior, and slain him in full view of both armies. Gem's army had left An-Etana little more than a shattered rock, as a warning and a statement of intent towards the Jansi lords of Cahzor.

"Hmm..." Inks started walking her fingers around the map. "As I recall, you encircled it with fortifications and forced their hand with elementals, before dueling their commander and razing the fortress?"

His eyes narrowed, but his grunt sounded amused and approving. "Been reading up on me, mm? Good. There's no honour on the battlefield; no such thing as a fair fight. You use whatever intel you can get on your opponent." He tapped the high walls. "Now, I'm using this because it's not far off what you'll be walking into with El-Galabi. A desperate, vicious enemy trapped in a city that's hard for your forces to assault, who won't surrender or give quarter or negotiate. I'd already taken care of their pacts with the local elemental courts, and the Dead don't make any, so I'll give you that as a freebie. Now, which side d'you reckon I'll be playing?"

"...The defender. You want to see how I'd do in your shoes, right?"

His grin is positively delighted. "Clever girl. So, think you can do as I did and bring these Cahzorite scum to their knees?"

"I'll try- what are my assets?" She looked at the map and hummed. "Do I have the same troops and tools you had, or am I fighting this as Sun-Girl?"

"First, An-Etana!" With a deliberate flourish, Piercing Sun cracks open a carved hardwood box and brings out small statuettes. They don't look like much; more geometric shapes than tiny models of people, but Inks can guess that these markers match the notation used for different troops in the field.

"The Dragonblood in command of the fort was a Chosen of Earth; a cautious old bastard called Resilient Coal. His biggest force was two hundred spearmen, but he'd manned the walls with a good hundred and twenty archers, and there were forty horses behind the walls that were used for patrolling the territory An-Etana commanded." He places each unit as he names them; small models that by Inks' count each represented ten men. "No elemental support, though - he tried to call on the old pacts with the local court, but I'd put paid to them already."

"In opposition," he grinned, lifting an empty tray out of the box and selecting red pieces from the one below it to counter the black used for the Cahzorite forces, "I brought myself and six earth elementals - stone-movers and rock-grinders - as well as eight of my best in armour that moved with them; made them stronger and faster. Then a hundred and twenty rangers on foot, and eighty camel-riders - tired from the march, but better than horses. And finally, the capstone to your forces - fifty war hounds, bred for fearlessness and savagery."  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, respectively, the units are:))  
> ST: ((DEFENDERS: Mag 5 infantry, Mag 4 wall garrison of archers, Mag 3 horse cavalry. They have very high walls that they mean to hide behind, which have one major approach as well as two narrow staircases up from the base of the hill that lead into the outer parts of the fort grounds.))  
> ST: ((ATTACKERS: Mag 2 earth elementals, Mag 2 elite rangers with power armour that enhances their Athletics rolls and Move/Dash/Jump distances, Mag 3 war hounds, Mag 4 infantry with high-quality gear and Mag 4 camel cavalry - who are tired, but have a bonus to intimidate opposing cavalry because camels kind of freak horses out.))  
> ST: ((Your move; Inks may consider her forces and what kind of strategy to use.))  
> 

  
  
"Hmm... I think it misses the point if I just fight your battle." Inks notes. "two hundred and eight men, not counting the commander, and then six earth elementals..." She walked around the model battlefield, humming faintly. Based on what she knew of magical beings like Elemenatals, they could the work of many men, sometimes tens of men or more in hours or days...

She asked Sun a few questions, comparing that to what she knew of the land and it's nature... "Archers and camel riders here, I'm assuming I'm me, so I can use Raising the Earth's Bones to build them fortresses and guard stations in a matter of days."  
  


>   
> ST: ((At this point, Piercing Sun did indeed know Raising the Earth's Bones, Stormwind Rider and a spell called the Lance of Hesiesh that let him fling javelins of flame.))  
> 

  
  
She started ro reason out a loud more. "Since my opponent has lost the edge of Elemental backing, I feel safer in using mine more, so I'd set them to sabotage the roads leading into the fortress- I can always rebuild them to attack later at my leisure-

"-But the real plan would be to employ the elementals to build a tunnel up into the enemy fortress, with my crack team of armored soldiers at my side... Hmm...."

"I'd want to split their forces- just before breaching the fortress from below, I'd arrange for my troops to mass for a frontal assault- something the defender can't ignore." She arranged her pieces as such, noting a handful of dice were set aside to mark out hours and time of day as she advanced the moves.

"With the fortress watching the path and the gates, my forces and I can push up from within and unleash sorcery- Flight of the Brilliant Raptor in my case."  
  


>   
> ST: ((She's playing as Piercing Sun, so she's using him as the commander rather than herself.))  
> ST: ((Which does mean better murdering stats.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

  
  
She looked up at Piercing Sun, finished with her proposal. "Now I'm absolutely certain this plan is garbage, but if I'm playing 'you', then you're absolutely more capable of behind-the-lines combat than I am."

He grins. "Well, we could talk about it all day, or try it and see. Set everything back as it was, and we'll play it out."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, so do we roll join war, or something?)  
> ST: ((Okay, so first; Int+War to plan out your strategy and foresee points of failure, necessary timing and potential ways in which Piercing Sun is going to be a complete bastard as he plays the defenders.))  
> Inks: (Alright,does Inks have War 2 yet, or after this? Otherwise she's only Int 5 and no excellency)  
> Inks: ('Only' int 5)  
> ST: ((Not yet; this is her stunt for learning.))  
> Inks: (stunt bonus, then, tool bonuses?)  
> ST: ((2-dot stunt, and... call it a +1 tool bonus from being a naughty girl and reading up on this battle.))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [6, 4, 4, 9, 5, 4, 6, 10] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((Not bad. So, Inks definitely has a workable plan. Hmm. I should probably roll for Piercing Sun in secret.))  
> ST: ((So your first action is an extended Int+War roll to have your elementals and Piercing Sun create temporary fortifications and destroy the roads, yes? What are you having your other units do?))  
> Inks: (Rest and recon, patrol around the fortress)  
> Inks: (Say when to roll!)  
> ST: ((Okay, Int+War to accomplish that, then. This game is obscuring unit commanders, so Inks is effectively the unit commander for all of her units. This is a rare mass combat roll that's taking place without the battlefield changing around you, so as the unit commander you get to use Int instead of Wits.))  
> ST: ((Difficulty is 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [8, 9, 4, 5, 7] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

  
  
Inks moves her pieces, turn by turn, as they raise up fortifications that will protect her men from arrowfire and wreck the roads. She's still getting the hang of how the pieces are represented and how they move, but the first task she's set herself isn't difficult, and she manages it without issue.

Piercing Sun, strangely, doesn't do much to oppose her. She'd expected him to send his cavalry charging out to try to kill her elementals with attacks of opportunity, but he's being very conservative; hunkering in his fortress and reshuffling the archers on his walls to better cover the circling patrols of Inks' men.

Presumably, she supposes, he's not playing this as Piercing Sun, but rather as Resilient Coal - or as much as he remembers of the man; dead by Piercing Sun's blade these many decades. This battle was a triumph in her teacher's early career, though, so perhaps he does recall the manner of his enemy's command style fairly well.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice)  
> Inks: (Next roll?)  
> ST: ((What's your next gambit? Stunt Inks moving on with her strategy!))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay)  
> Inks: (I'm having trouble reading some of the cues of this new system is all, but attempting!)  
> 

  
  
With her forces at their initial position, Inks directs her elementals to sabotage the roads leading up to the fortress itself- unless they have vast stores of food and water, she could wait and starve them out, but that kind of desperation was a power all it's own- one she didn't want to contend with yet.

With her elementals tearing the roadway apart, she arranged for her other troops to continue their patrols, now secure in their bunkers and fortifications against the besieged raiders. When the horsemen come out, her camel riders were poised to meet them. With the roads savaged at her order, she lastly directs her elementals behind her lines, to dig deep under ground out of sight towards the enemy fortress.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+War))  
> Inks: !ex 7 "assuming stunt"; Inks: [9, 6, 5, 7, 10, 6, 9] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((So you've got your elementals, your Piercing Sun and your elite power-armour troops in the tunnel, yeah?))  
> Inks: (yeah, seems likely- and my other forces are preparing for the distraction assualt too?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Okay, your elementals are in position to breach, so now roll Int+War at a penalty of (units involved in the distraction) to coordinate your distraction assault with... which units are you using? You have your camel-riders, your infantry and your war hounds free.))  
> Inks: (Okay... Riders, Infantry, War Hounds = 3 units,so -3 penalty, internal or external?)  
> ST: ((Internal.))  
> Inks: !ex 2 +1 "Willpower"; Inks: [4, 1] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Haha. Close.))  
> 

  
  
Inks lines her units up, parades the whole of her forces up towards the gate, watches as Piercing Sun redirects archers around to the front and masses his cavalry near the gate... and then gives the command to breach. Her elementals and elite rangers pour out into the centre of the fort...

... and then it all goes horribly wrong, as Piercing Sun - with a horrible grin - lifts one of the model huts in the parade ground near the breach to reveal a single black token. Ten men. Except that this isn't the rectangular block that denotes infantry or the elongated pyramid that marks cavalry. This is a more ornate piece - ornate like the red mountain token that denotes her elementals.

Except this token is a leering demonic visage.

"Second rule of war," the old bastard says casually, that awful grin still on his face. "Never assume you know all the enemy's forces." He shifts his demonic forces towards Inks' breaching party as several carefully positioned groups of archers on the wall turn only slightly to aim inward, toward the parade ground.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Piercing Sun beat Inks' War roll and positioned his forces to ambush her when she came out. He's now making a coordinated Clash with her breaching party with a Mag 3 unit of his archers and a Mag 2 unit of demons.))  
> Inks: (so I have Mag 2 Earth Elementals, Mag 2 Rangers, and 'Sun' to fight agaisnt these units too?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (Okay so we haven't been tracking ticks or ready-unit actions so far, do I need to do anything to engage with the clash, or do I just take it?)  
> ST: ((... shit, yes. My bad. Though this is where things have basically started being a real battle rather than pre-battle stuff, so. We really should have done Ready Unit actions before the coordinated breach, but will assume the coordination roll handled those. However, due to this sudden demon ambush, you need to take another pair of Ready Unit actions, and a coordination roll, to respond with your elementals and elite rangers.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so in relative terms, who acts first and what's the tick timing? Like, is this tick 0, we're starting fresh?)  
> Inks: (I'm game for whatever, but this kind of stress testing is important for homebrew)  
> ST: ((Yes. Well, tick 0 was the breach, here.))  
> Inks: (Got it. So.. let's call that a Flank then? Like, Inks setting all this up was just a really elaborate flanking maneuver but one that Sun pre-empted?)  
> Inks: (Anyway, responses...)  
> 

  
  
Inks for her part sucked her teeth and winced. "You are a fantastic bastard in all the best ways... So I'm playing you, which means I don't know the same set of spells- I think you'd agree that if it were me down there, I'd snap off a Banishing if I could.... Anyway." She arranged her troops, consolidating them into a hard knot of overlapping defenses- the elementals in the lead as they could take the counter-charge. "And then the elites here, with 'me' right there in the middle."   
He chuckles. "Banishment only works on one demon at a time, girl," he points out. "Bad move to make when you're facing ten of 'em."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so mechanically, is Inks flurrying a Ready Unit with a counter-Clash?))  
> Inks: (Sounds good, standard flurry rules? That means she's rolling 2d for Ready Unit and 5d +2d mag bonus attack for the elite troops, what does the elemental have for an attack?)  
> ST: ((Yes. The elementals are, as Sun said, primarily rock-movers and stone-crushers; their Attack is only 5 dice. The elite units have Attack 8, _but_ are hindered by the narrow tunnel - meaning they can't get their full Magnitude out in a few short ticks, and are limited to Mag 2 for this Clash. They do have Piercing Sun as a +1 "young DB" hero unit, though.))  
> ST: ((The demons have Attack 10, and the archers have Attack 5.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so 2d ready action, elementals are 5+2d, and Elites are 8d + mag... 1? +1 from Hero Unit. I assume the attacks are concurrent, so I'm not facing extended penalties from the flurry.   
> Inks: !ex 4 +1 (Willpower + stunt for Ready Units, -3d from flurry); Inks: [4, 4, 4, 3] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Now there are a total of 4 attacks, my elementals and my elites, vs your archers and your demons. I'm going to set everybody against the demons, since I feel safe in assuming my elites can't reach the archers here)  
> ST: ((Correct.))  
> Inks: (Demon DV?)  
> ST: (4)  
> Inks: !ex 4 "Elementals"; Inks: [10, 2, 7, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 6 "Elites"; Inks: [9, 6, 8, 4, 8, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (Whiffs both, opposing attack?)  
> Inks: (Elementals have a DV of ??? and assuming kingguard as baseline, DV 4 for my elites)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Elemental DV is 3. Demons are focusing on the elites.))  
> ST: !ex 10 "Demons"; ST: [10, 7, 8, 1, 1, 8, 6, 2, 5, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((Archers are focusing on the elementals))  
> ST: ((They're a Mag 3 force firing on a Mag 2 force, so +1))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [2, 2, 5, 9, 3, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((This reduces the elites to Mag 1 - or "just Inks' Piercing Sun unit", and keeps the elementals the same.))  
> Inks: (Okay, so clashs skip things like soak and HLs and skip straight to mag reduction- be advised that makes it so equipment is either abstracted or ignored at a system level)  
> Inks: (How would I cast sorcery on my turn?)  
> ST: ((Equipment like soak is folded into DVs, I think. Hmm. Or... mm. Good point, I will take another look at it later. Well-flagged.))  
> Inks: (aye, worth noting so characters like Inks can armor their dudes up)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> 

  
  
Inks watches in distress as her precious power-armoured rangers fall, until only Piercing Sun's icon is left. Her elementals survive better - hah - but the sudden turnaround panics the creatures.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll Valour 2 for the elementals.))  
> Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [10, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> ST: ((Okay, go for it.))  
> Inks: (do I coordinate again or just roll my clashes?)  
> ST: ((You're attacking the demons again with the elementals and Piercing Sun?))  
> Inks: (Yeah)  
> ST: ((Go for it.))  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [9, 7, 5, 2, 3, 5, 4, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (I think I'm ded)  
> ST: !ex 6 "Archers"; ST: [10, 3, 1, 4, 2, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Useless archers whiff again.))  
> ST: !ex 10 "Demons"; ST: [10, 7, 1, 9, 7, 10, 10, 6, 4, 9] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> ST: ((...))  
> Inks: (Lulz)  
> ST: ((Yeah, I think that might be sufficient to wipe out your elemental force and Piercing Sun, because holy shit, that's more than a legendary threshold success.))  
> Inks: (Yep!)  
> Inks: (And I think the stress test of the rules proves that I don't think I have a systemic avenue to succeed)  
> 

  
  
The rest of the battle doesn't take long, and one by one, Inks' pieces within An-Etana fall. Outside the gate - keeping just out of arrow range - her infantry and cavalry await aid from within that won't come - and Inks sees Piercing Sun begin to move his own pieces back towards the gate, massing for an attack.  
  


>   
> ST: ((What do you mean by that?))  
> Inks: (I mean that the way the rules shook out, I functionally don't have the mechanical options to respond without making it up as I go.)  
> Inks: (some of that is just 'neither of us are practiced at the rules', mind)  
> ST: ((Ah. Yeah, Inks can forfeit this battle if she wants, and get back into other game bits))  
> 

  
  
Picking up the piece representing 'Sun', Inks flipped it in the air like a coin before tossing it to the man himself. "I think you've proved your point- and that I have a lot to learn."

"Mmm," Sun nodded, catching it. "Well, you're not without potential. Too ambitious, mostly. When I took the fort, I used the elementals to crack the walls and force them out, instead of trying to take them in their stronghold. Sending a small force into the midst of a larger one is dangerous - though if not for the demons it might have worked. And," he grins. "You were too obvious about your plot. Coal would've caught it, paranoid old bastard that he was, so I didn't spare you."

He clapped his hands. "We'll work on that. Be back here tomorrow, same time, and we'll run through the siege of Maer. You'll play the defenders; see what it's like from that side. Now, off with you." He dismisses her with a flap of his hand and starts resetting the pieces into their starting configurations. Inks would not be surprised if he means to play the battle out as he fought it - which she'll undoubtedly be taken through in her lessons at some point, but for now he seems satisfied that his point has been made.

Smiling despite the awful drubbing, Inks agreed with a jaunty wave and sauntered out with her customary sway, Maji obligingly at her side.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the other two minor actions I Have planned for this week are 'Spell Research, Demon of the 2nd Circle', and then running Businesses)  
> 

  
  
Huffing, Maji brushes up against her side, rumbling low in her throat and opining that _he_ would have been able to crack such a puny fort all by himself.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, you can head back and stunt some spell research.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Even though Hinna's lab had been cleaned out of anything untoward, until Inks was more comfortable with her position in Gem, she preferred to do her research in her townhouse where appropriate. Copying the notes Hinna left of the spell and keeping the original unspoilt, she poured over the clauses, diagrams and ritual implements of the complex spell. "This is so far beyond an Emerald Circle Spell- the complexity and power required..." She continued to isolate every line and stanza, deciphering the various hand symbols and invocations of authority over the Demon City and it's inhabitants...  
  


>   
> Inks: (stunted, roll or just an unrolled Minor Action?)  
> ST: ((Hmm... roll Int+Occult at (Circle prereq) Difficulty - so 4.))  
> Inks: !ex 8 +4; Inks: [9, 3, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 10] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
The spell, once Inks finishes checking it through, is surprisingly unobjectionable. It looks like it's an originally-functional spell that's been fiddled to favour the demon but not rewritten from the ground up - so once Inks removes the clauses that render "those with authority to bind the demon summoned" functionally impossible and rebalances the essence-values, it holds up perfectly well. The invocation spell is even more of a treat; being entirely sound as long as Inks isn't stupid enough to use it with an icon created and provided by the demon she intends to invoke sans any form of purification or warding.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmm)  
> Inks: (So basically it's the standard spell from the books?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (Awesome, do I need to spend the full 2 weeks minor action then- like, does my time here free up the week, or no?)  
> ST: ((That's basically her conclusion at the end of her minor action of going through them line-by-line.))  
> Inks: (Oh, so by the end of week 2, got it)  
> Inks: (Okay, Minor-action Business)  
> 

  
  
If it weren't for Vahti and Pipera, helping in their own way, Inks was sure she would have pushed herself to burnout without much issue- as Sun said, ambition was her most obvious failing. Even so there was value in daring.

Between sorcerous research and training with Piercing Sun, Inks made a quick but decisive circuit of her wet-industry holdings, shoring up their accounts and administration against the predations of rival interests. Even if she knew House Iblan was behind it, she limited her reprisals to the cats paws for the time being.  
Taking advantage where she could, Inks focused more on consolidating her hold and creating a foundation for potential incorporation- as a Great House herself, if need be, or merely as a defacto economic block. Either way, her goal was to end the profit loss and prepare for growth.  
  


>   
> Inks:((Int+Bur, base Diff, effectiveness scales with successes.))  
> ST: ((Pipera is a +3))  
> Inks: !ex 23; Inks: [3, 5, 5, 1, 6, 4, 2, 6, 9, 4, 10, 10, 4, 6, 6, 8, 7, 6, 2, 9, 8, 5, 3] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (oh, +2 stunt?)  
> Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [7, 10] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((WELP))  
> ST: ((Damn effective stunt there.))  
> 

  
  
By the end of two weeks, Inks has a pair of thoroughly vetted spells, a thriving reinforced business empire and a seething hatred for the smug old _bastard_ in charge of her military training. Piercing Sun's lessons never get easier, and she's _sure_ he's feeding his fiery essence into his strategies as she advances so that the gap between them remains as wide as it ever was. Still, after a fortnight he's willing to concede that she's shown "decent improvement" and "isn't awful" as a commander, which from the ornery old Dragonblood is high praise indeed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (a pair of spells? I was only researching one I thought, but I'm game for more! And it'll take 3 total weeks to learn War 1, plus a 4th week to learn War 2.)  
> ST: ((I'm allowing her to have also checked over the Invocation, since they're related spells.))  
> Inks: (Excellent)  
> ST: ((And I know; this is the two-week mark where she's making good progress on War 1.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, fortnite threw me is all~)  
> 

  
  
Unfortunately, he's also become considerably more pressing about the physical side of her training, citing her bout against Nabijah that he somehow found out about as reason for her to be whipped into shape. Vahti and Pipera seem to be included in his decision to force more training onto her by default, since as he says "they'll be involved in whatever madness you get up to in that shadowland."

* * *

However, a surprising visitor interrupts Inks' routine at the end of the second week. She comes home from yet another battle - this time a moving one through mountainous territory where the 'fog of war' was in place across much of the model battlefield and Piercing Sun didn't let her see anything her scout troops didn't explore - and finds Tatters waiting for her.

"I've found something," her spy says, voice grave. "Something serious. I thought you'd want to know right away."

"Of course" Inks agreed- privately or now?" She pointed at a somewhat recent addition- a warded alcove of her bottom floor covered by gauzy curtains. They marked the boundaries of another Private Plaza, so that her friends and allies could converse without fear of eavesdroppers.

Tatters starts towards the alcove. "This isn't the sort of thing discussed where people might overhear," she tosses back over her shoulder. "I haven't acted on it - yet. But you should."

A goal seemed to give the woman confidence, something to focus on that made Tatters stand far taller- figuratively at least if not physically. Inks followed with a nod and settled inside, urging the other woman to speak once they were secure. "Go on."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Socialize to read her mood. MDV 4 - brought down by Principles.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [8, 7, 9, 2, 1, 3, 5, 10, 8] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
Tatters didn't sit, instead leaning against the table Inks had in there for drinks and food. "You set me to investigate the Iblan council," she starts. She's fidgety, unnaturally stiff; moving herself back into certain positions again and again. Inks can hear the frown in her voice, behind the veil.

She remembers her analysis of this woman, so long ago now. How she has her little rules and rituals; proper ways of doing things that she makes up or draws from her culture and hates breaking. It's why she wears her dark mourning garb at all times, why she sets herself apart from everyday people as a priestess. Something about this situation has broken one of her rules, and Tatters is not happy about it. At all.

"I gave them all a quick look over and picked the ones who looked easiest to work out what they wanted. Jad Raheem - he's the smelter-captain in charge of the ore refineries; he's more interested in profit than stability and wants an Iblan on the Despot's throne, but mostly he just wants to learn the secrets of tumbaga and orichalcum. He'd sell himself in a heartbeat to learn how to make more of the first or any of the second."

Despite this _massive, crucial lever_ on one of Iblan Bana's critical keys to power, Tatters all but rushes through the words; uninterested in the man save as something to get out of the way for what comes next.

"But Iblan _Alya_... she's one of Bana's granddaughters. The one who deals with foreign affairs; outreach and external trade." Not a crucial key to power, Inks recalls, wondering where this is going. Tatters doesn't disappoint. "She has a husband; someone she met out on one of her _trips_ ," she spits the word, "but he's reclusive and barely ever seen. The ones I found say he's a great beauty, though. And she's as wealth-obsessed and throne-hungry as Jad Raheem, so I went to look further into it; I thought he might be a, a contact from someone outside Gem they were planning a coup with. Yes?" She looks at Inks plaintively, apparently expecting some sort of a response, or at least an encouragement. The sense of violated, indignant outrage is thick in the air, despite nothing really jumping out yet as being the cause.

"Demon cultists, worshipers of the dead...? Ordinary spies?" Inks shrugged helplessly. "I mean, her husband married into the family right? So either she's the puppet to him, or he's a screen for her. Or he's dead and gone." She shrugged again, waiting.

" _Fae_ ," Tatters hisses, venomously. "He's a _fae thing_. Unnaturally beautiful - more even than, than _you_ , and she... she's feeding him slaves, feeding him _souls_. He eats them and hollows them out and then they just let them die of heatstroke and throw them on the streets!" She slams the table with a fist, making it groan alarmingly. "A slave dead of heatstroke isn't anything _special_ in Gem, after all," she says bitterly. "And once they're dead, there's no evidence that there was nothing left in the body even before that."

Inks blinked once. Twice. "Firewander all over again...." She paused for a moment, leaning forward in her chair and lacing her fingers over her lips. She looked up at Tatters. "Did you find out if any of the other Iblan councilors, Bana herself, knows of this arrangement?"

"If they _do_..." says Tatters in dark tones, leaving absolutely no doubt about what her response to that would be. "But no, I don't think so. She's trying to keep him hidden when he's in Gem, or downplay how inhuman his looks are. And sometimes he goes out and 'travels' the desert - probably hunting or communing with his kin."

"Alright, mostly I'm trying to decide what's leverage or not- if we can or should reveal the monstrosity and how best to do it." She scowled something fierce, fingers curling into fists as she let out a low hiss. "Even if we don't take advantage of this against Bana, we're sure as hell going to deal with it somehow."

Tatters' back straightens in indignation. "We should _kill it_. Reveal it, reveal _her_ , punish them for what they're doing!" The idea of _not_ revealing it obviously didn't even occur to her as a possibility - although Inks can already hear Pipera's voice pointing out that while a public scandal would weaken Bana's standing, she might be able to replace Alya with another loyal Councilor, while blackmail would get them a council member who'd do whatever Inks told her to, on threat of her husband being revealed.

"I plan on it, but I'd much rather strike smart than not." She stood up then, teeth bared. "And hard enough that it'll take more than a hundred years before anyone thinks of dealing with Fae again."

"I could ask Hunter maybe, if they know anything. And Bidaha, since she's probably scoured Sun's archives of Gem's enemies including the Fae..." She looked over at Tatters, face firm but understanding. "You want me to deal with this, and just on moral grounds I agree, but I have El-Galabi on my plate, House Iblan's pasties moving against me, and now this. I don't need convincing, but I want to do this carefully."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Pres vs Tatters' MDV 9 - boosted by her outrage at this, brought down by the fact that it's Inks asking her.))  
> ST: ((Uh, that is, Cha or Manip - you can use either one with this stunt.))  
> Inks: (Was worried for a sec, okay, cha 2 pres 4, sexy stunner apply? If it would to anyone it'd be Tatters what with her crush)  
> ST: ((It does, yes, as does your Prettiness bonus - Tatters is Awe 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 17 +1 "6d +6d +3d +2 stunt +1 autosux from style"; Inks: [4, 3, 7, 7, 9, 1, 4, 6, 1, 3, 10, 8, 7, 1, 9, 8, 4] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Tatters isn't happy about it. She's decidedly _un_ happy about it, in fact. But under Inks' cajoling and well-reasoned arguments and, yes, alright, a bit of shameless flirting to take advantage of the woman's feelings; Inks talks her out of going over and murdering the pair on the spot. One of the arguments that swings the debate is the fact that she's only really looked into two of the seven council members, and the others might be hiding similar dark secrets which acting now would prompt them to hide better.

Grumbling, Tatters leaves, and Inks is left to absorb the impact of what she's just discovered.

In the privacy of her warded sitting room, Inks's reaction is eloquent as it is decisive. "Buh."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hah. And call it there?))  
> ST: ((End of session; 4xp + 1mxp + 2Sxp.))  
> Inks: (huzzah!)  
> ST: ((Tatters rolled _lots and lots_ of successes on her investigation roll.))  
> Inks: Good times  
> ST: Like, I wasn't originally planning to drop that bomb for another couple of sessions, but, uh  
> ST: wow  
> ST: so many 10s  
> Inks: Nice  
> Inks: Today was pretty fun- are we playing again tomorrow to make up for anything, or just one session a week? Either is fine, just wondering.  
> ST: Just one per week, I think.  
> Inks: Gotcha  
> Inks: Uhm... let's see, re: Mass rules: There was not really any thought given to Order of Battle, no turn, phase or step structure. That made it really hard to think of how to react at any given option. The inclusion of extended rolls threw me as well, as I didn't understand why they were being used.  
> Inks: In the interests of mechanical pacing, you could consider emphasizing more unrolled actions in favor of focusing things on flurry penalties- like, instead of having to roll a bunch for every Ready Unit action, you just obligate it and say 'A unit that is not Readied cannot do XYZ'  
> Inks: related to that is if you need a map for a session, you can ask me to draw one based on your description as much as anything- I can likely do it faster than you can  
> Inks: the drawing part, mind  
> ST: ... true, yes.  
> Inks: don't be down about it- learning experience!  
> ST: I think part of that was also that I wasn't following the standard combat system of ticks and so on enough, because - again - I'm not familiar enough with how it works.  
> ST: Harkening back to you wanting to focus on how the RAW system actually functions.  
> Inks: aye,and that it _does_ function far more than people give it credit for  
> Inks: even if it's by no means perfect  
> ST: indeed  
> Inks: on me, I could've pushed harder for you to focus, but at the same time I didn't want to interrupt  
> ST: I choose to blame this on you, because I would have more experience at using it if you didn't keep _avoiding or talking your way out of all my planned fight scenes_ :P  
> Inks: by focus i mean 'take the time to explain the mechanics a bit more' or integrate them.  
> ST: (joking)  
> 


	43. Session 43: The Keys of House Iblan

"So, uh..." Vahti asks, a few hours later as she digs hot green fingers into Inks' back. The heat of her skin releases the fragrant smell of the oil, and the scent of sandalwood and desert roses wafts over the baths. "You seem pretty tense, boss. Way more than usual. And ghost-lady stalked out like the floor had personally insulted her mother. Something happen?"

"Nrrggle!" Inks let out a sour grunt. "Drama and intrigue. All kinds of drama and intrigue. Nothing I can act on right at this momeeeeeeent!" Her voice pitched up higher for a moment as Vahti found another sore spot, before dropping into a sensual low. "Ahh.. Going to have to follow up on that as well."

Rolling over, Inks stretched and yawned, arching her back while she basked in both the evening sun and Vahti's own ambient warmth. "I'll have to brief Pipera as well- I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" A lascivious grin spreads across Vahti's face. "Of _course_ I'd be happy to massage your front as well, boss. Why'd you think you needed to ask?" She wiggles her fingers teasingly.

Laughing, Inks shook her head. "In a bit- I've been training with Piercing Sun, and I wanted to bring you along as well for instruction. Pipera's got my economic interests well in hand, but I could use another strong arm at my side along with Maji. You'd be a wonderful personal-protection agent."

Vahti glances over at the tiger-prince lounging by the poolside with a doubtful eye. His slitted gaze regards her in turn, gives her a slow up-and-down, then slides back to Inks.

He huffs. It doesn't sound impressed.

"Oh you big strong boy, I think you agree having more protection is a good thing. And Vahti can grow into it, right?" Inks cocked her head to the side, smiling. "Do you think you're up for the challenge? Or would you rather do something else?"

"I mean... if you think I can do it, sure!" Vahti says cheerfully. "Uh... how much work will it be, exactly? Because you're all sore and tired when you come home, and, uh..."

To that Inks only smirked. "We'd give each other massages and hang out in the baths together~"

"... well, okay. If you're gonna _force my hand_ about it," laughs Vahti. Maji chuffs quietly again, and Inks feels his amusement in her obliviousness to Piercing Sun's horrible pitiless bastardry and how much of it she's going to be subjected to. It's doubtful his standards for a spirit of fire are going to be any lower than that for a sorceress-academic.

Meanwhile, Inks merely relaxes, knowing she wouldn't be alone in the torture.

Leaning up to catch Vahti in a playful kiss, Inks promised a follow up in her bedroom after she tied up the last few loose ends of the day. The main one being Pipera. Grabbing not so much a robe or dress but a wet sheet from a nearby rack, Inks tied it off in an artfully flattering way that highlighted the colorful tattoo beneath the white silk.

From there she moved to Pipera's ground-floor office-apartment and knocked on the door.

There's a longish pause and the sounds of quiet shuffling behind the door before it opens to reveal Pipera in a shift that looks like she just threw it on. "Not awful timing," she says, shaking her braids out from where they're trapped in the collar. "What can I do for you?"

"...Well now I feel bad- it's important but not time sensitive. I'd speak of it behind privacy wards though." Inks admitted.

"No, that wasn't sarcasm," Pipera sighs. "I won't say it was _good_ timing; because if you'd waited another two or three minutes I'd have been dressed, but I'm completely finished with work and... worship." She rolls her shoulders. "And I suppose there's no point putting on anything more if we're just going to be speaking behind wards. Lead on."

Nodding, pulling her to the warded alcove (and it was in the evening, so most of the staff were either turned in for the night or out on the town enjoying their wages), Inks quickly brought Pipera up to speed on Tatter's investigations. "One of Bana's granddaughters has a Fae husband and they have a side-gig of ravishing slaves and leaving them out to die. We're going to do something about this, but I'm debating how and when."

It's perhaps the most surprised Inks has ever seen her. She doesn't get an actual jaw-drop out of the woman - that sort of loss of composure would have Inks checking outside for a second Balorian Crusade - but her eyes widen, her shoulders sag dramatically and she falls back into the cushioned seat back with a 'woomph' of air and down feathers.

"I... I see," she says after a long silence. Then she sits there, blinking, for several seconds more. "How... no, never mind that. Is this the only such scandal? Has she investigated the rest of the council, or did she come straight here after... for that matter, why did she come here at all? You say 'going' to do something - she didn't already slaughter them both and leave them out to bake in the sun? Or whatever other poetic little punishment she could come up with."

"She came back to tell me immediately, expecting me to be as righteously angry as she was and to smite them. I was tempted, I admit, but I'm aware enough that this is an opportunity both moral and practical." She sat down herself, shedding most of her sensual poise in favor of a deeper sense of strain or weight on her shoulders.

"I managed to convince her - barely - to finish investigating the rest of the council before we commit to anything."

Pipera purses her lips. "You're thinking of using it to blackmail her," she says. "To force... who is it, anyway? Granddaughter..." Her eyes unfocus for a moment. "Iblan Alya? Interesting. So, you're thinking of using it to guarantee a vote against Bana in their house council?"

"Maybe. Or to win the councilors to my side, or Bana even. Not likely I think but it's an option." She let out a ragged sigh. "Like I said 'going' to do something. I think... leverage or not, if I do anything, it has to be as above-board as possible. Like, I have to out Alya and her husband in a way that makes it clear I didn't plant evidence or anything."

Pipera raises an amused eyebrow. "How exactly would one 'plant' a soul-eating monster of a husband in a rival's home? I don't think even my aunt would be able to sell that, and matchmaking was her life's work."

"I'm a Solar and a demonologist, they'd try to blame me."

"Mm. True."

Pipera drums her fingers on the desk for a moment, before a nasty smile emerges. "The thought occurs that Elemi Piercing Sun is well-known to be a Dragonblooded hero with little to no patience for subtle political games," she says slyly. "Oh, some might question it given him taking you on as a protege, but few will dare suggest that he might have been used as a cat's paw where he might hear. And on the other side..." Her expression sours. "I believe you made the acquaintance of Iblan Asenya back when we first found your exorcist. _Her_ word would certainly be beyond reproach - and while she rarely gets involved in the affairs of her House; this would be a compelling reason to break her pattern."

"Hmm... So set either of them on Ayla and her husband, and once they're outed, their protections are gone and Tatters can take her justice, if she desires... Hmm.. I'd like to make a show of it if I could- did you know I can tell when people are lying to me?"

"... I did not," says Pipera, in the tone that means this information is being filed away. "Still, what we'll need to look out for is Bana joining the outcry and denouncing her granddaughter - perhaps even advocating for a particularly harsh punishment. It's likely she'd really mean it, too, though the image benefits won't escape her. We need to keep her tarred with the same brush, and take the choice of who to replace Alya with out of her hands - preferably, in fact, put it into the hands of a rival."

"Alright, so for that we'd need to wait a bit for Tatters to finish her investigation, and I'm perfectly happy with just confronting Alya and her husband directly if we have to." She paused for a moment. "...But I'd tell Sun as well." She offered Pipera a small smile. "Is there anything I can do to make up for the interruption?"

Pipera smiles back. "I told you; you didn't interrupt," she says. "Though please, do remember that telling Elemi is a one-way road, and it ends with someone dead. If this gets out..."

"I'm not going to tell him unless I'm already on my way with Chronicle in hand." Inks reassured her. "I'll have already decided when I get him involved."

"Good," Pipera nods approvingly. "Then I suppose it's a waiting game until your friend gets back with news on the rest of the councilors.

Something seems to occur to her, and she raises a finger. "Which reminds me," she adds. "What are you doing about your deyha? Exploring Gem and taking advantage of Sahlak brothels will only occupy them for so long, and it would be best if you found them some sort of long-term position or work that will keep them from picking fights."

"I was actually aiming to point then at the Circla arenas." Inks considered. "I'm going to try and secure their loyalty more firmly as well."

"That... would certainly work," Pipera says, considering. "I had considered throwing them at Elemi to see if his daughter could whip some discipline into them, but deyha do not good soldiers make. Fighters, yes. But discipline, no. The fighting pits would be a perfect solution."

She dips her head in an approving nod. "Just make sure they don't get cocky enough to be killed," she adds as an afterthought.

"Agreed."  
  


>   
> Inks: (I think we can move on to a new scene unless you want something to happen?)  
> 

* * *

Inks had put Nabijah and her girls up in a lodging-house on Fifth, since the dire hyenas weren't at home in the tunnels. This also put them conveniently close to the livestock markets, which had probably developed a fear of hyenas to rival their fear of big cats. It was a smart choice, she decided now, since it put them not far at all from the open-air Circla arenas on Third. And the shade of the peak was enjoyable too, as she and Maji strolled over to give her employees the good news.

"Nabijah! How're you doing here in hot, sweltering Gem?"

The massive teenager shrugs. "S'alright, I guess." Pipera was right; she has been visiting Sahlak territory. Probably for the dancing, given the budget Inks gave her and the second-hand perfume lingering on her clothes. Scattered bottles indicate she's also been perusing the liquour Gem has to offer. "Boring, though. You said I could be blooded here, and so far I've only seen a handful of fights."

"I've been thinking about that, and if you haven't already noticed, one of the noble houses of Gem maintains a strong gladiator circuit." She paused for a moment, thinking of her phrasing. "Do you think you're tough enough to blood yourselves there?"

Nabijah grins. Her friends jeer from where they're scattered around the small room. "Hah," Nabijah scoffs. "We went to see a couple of those fights. They were pathetic. We could walk all over the trash that fights in them; easy."

Her fists flex, and Inks recalls the power in the maiming blows Nabijah can dish out. A few of her friends, Inks can see in the dim light, have fresh bruises. From the 'handful of fights' they've managed to get themselves into? Or from their leader? It's impossible to tell.

"Hmm. Not tough enough then eh? I think we'll want to talk to the Circla managers anyway, to use their arenas." She cocked her head to one side. "Other than Deyha, what's the toughest fight you've ever had?"

A thoughtful scowl crosses Nabijah's face. "Does Muta count as deyha?" she asks rhetorically. "Eh, probably. In that case... basilisc."

A chorus of groans go up around the room. "It was half-blind and mostly dead!" one of the girls complains. Nabijah cuffs her roughly.

"A desert basilisc is a desert basilisc," she says stubbornly. "And I got the kill on it, so it's mine. Fucking monster, too. I deserved the wings." She trails off into sullen muttering about her sisters as Inks searches her mind for context.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Lore, Diff 3))  
> Inks: (3 sux)  
> 

Ah yes, she recalls. Desert basiliscs. Wyld-addled beasts... some sort of mashup of serpent and peacock with a coat of flame and a general loathing for all forms of life, including each other. If Nabijah claimed to have bested one by herself, Inks would be... severely skeptical. But an old, injured one driven too far north, or perhaps having crawled out of the Flowing Dune Sea after an encounter gone bad with an armed ship... yes, that might be believable. Presumably, any trophies from the kill disappeared into her sister's keeping, which might explain the weariness her friends show at the tale. If the story is all she has left, it's no great surprise that she likes telling it and playing up the achievement.

Inks considers the general comparison between that and some of the demon breeds she knows how to summon...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Occult for good demon matchups)  
> Inks: (4 sux)  
> Inks: (Okidaci, anhule, blood ape, stomach bottle bug, basilisk dog, herenhals, anglykae, neomah, metody))  
> Inks: (Blood ape is likely the best)  
> 

Probably about as lethal as a basilisk dog, she decides. Less sheer destructive power than a blood ape, but much more defense - and they're larger, too, as she recalls.

Before she immediately jumps into the offer on her mind, Inks hummed, taking Nabijah's measure. There was pride there, a thirst for glory, but maybe there was something deeper within. Or maybe not.  
  


>   
> Inks: (KNowing the Soul's Price, per+invest at diff 1, subtract Nabijah's Manip+Soc as External Penalty,)  
> Inks: (man+soc/2 I mean)  
> ST: (So that's, uh. -1. Actually, -0 if you're rounding down.)  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> Inks: !ex 9  
> Inks: (..two sux, I win!)  
> Inks: (Supernaturals round up, usually)  
> ST: (Deyha aren't naturally or universally Enlightened.)  
> 

Her family. Of course it comes back to her family. The sisters who abused and bullied her, the mother whose legend she could never live up to... if Inks could offer Nabijah the chance to surpass them all, to be stronger and richer and fiercer and more known - if she could give Nabijah the power to _humble_ them; to have all and sundry see them as _her_ lesser relations and for them to know it...

... why, then she'd have a friend and ally for life, if not beyond.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so to check about how this charm works- do you think it works on a willingness to meet the price, for long future goals like this- or does it only work if Inks can immediately offer a complete 'boon' that satisfies the price?)  
> ST: ((Latter, I think. Well, heh. More accurately, KtSP has _two_ effects, and both of them are useful.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so I know the price now, but cannot offer it)  
> ST: ((The seal-the-deal Servitude effect is the more powerful of the two, but just knowing what it is that drives her is useful in and of itself, because you can play to that Principle and invoke it in stunts.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha. Hmm. I'll unpack more thoughts about this in the postmortem, thanks!)  
> 

"Alright- so we're going to pay a visit to the Circla ring bosses and see about setting up a main event or two. Against something tough, something you can prove yourself against and with."

Nabijah grins, fiercely. " _Finally_ ," she crows.

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (So in abstract, Inks will arrange for a bout against demons she summons, and ideally makes a deal with the Circla arena managers where she can summon demons in general (not constantly) for special events. She'd have some restrictions in mind, like no pointless slaughters.  
> Inks: (And likely invoking Pipera to write the contracts to the managers don't try to pull a fast one on her and cull their poor fighters against a blood ape or something. A fairly ideal end-state is something like 'Inks summons demons at a set schedule for Circla, putting the Deyha on the 'card' so to speak, along with other gladiators who want a challenge.  
> ST: ((Hmm. Note that Nabijah took on the basilisc when it was injured. But yeah, fair. I think we can skip past the specific dialogue of that, so roll, mm, Cha+Pres at Diff 3 to get the Circla over the demon-fear thing and sell it to them, stunting accordingly.))  
> 

Arranging the deal was not quite a formality, but it was something Inks had experience with nonetheless. It took a couple of demonstrations of both her summoning and banishment, both of the arguably more docile Basilisk dogs before she was able to convince the Circla managers to start her little side venture. Involving Pipera in the contracutal negotiations was just good sense.

The acutal deal was brokered over a triangular table in one of the higher box seats over the largest Arena in Gem, where the representatives of both the House and the facility itself beheld Inks at her most devastatingly sexy and convincing best. She wove promises of wealth and prestige, and was artfully transparent about the invocation of demon gladiators-

"Summoning demands respect, and I would not have it any other way." She declared as part of her proposal. "And I will attend these bouts to help banish the demons back as well."  
  


>   
> Inks: (stunted, sexy stunner style, so 6d +6d +3d +2d)  
> Inks: (...sad trombone, 3 successes)  
> 

"Can't we just kill 'em?" Circla Belusco asks. The ex-slave turned head of house is built like a chiselled brick wall, blind in his left eye from an old wound but otherwise surprisingly handsome given his past as a gladiator. He runs a hand through his greying red hair and shrugs. "They're just demons. And it would pump up the crowd. Good for sales."

"I'm sure you could." Inks agrees. "The question is would you have anyone to kill them with after they win?"

"Don't think much've your hyenas, then?" he scoffs. "Deathmatches are part of the business. The tough ones survive. And we could balance the fights by putting many up against one."

"Oh I think my Deyha can handle it, I was worried about anyone else." Inks drew hummed. "Well, if you're not interested in the idea, I'll take my proposal elsewhere." With that, she gathered her paperwork.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I have a backup plan, depending on their reaction)  
> 

"Oy, hold up." He sounds faintly annoyed. "I'm interested, s'a money-earner. I just dunno why you're against some blood." He confers quietly with a tiny woman who must be a third of his weight for a few moments; unusual tenderness on his face as she speaks, and then straightens with a shrug. "The business side checks out, so sure. We'll do it your way."

Inks smiled. "A pleasure. My gals will be pleased."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the arrangement is set?)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> Inks: (Aweome)  
> 

Having made the deal, now Inks instructed her Deyha. "This is very simple. Fight as hard as you want but do not die." She made a mental note to also offer her services to injured gladiators as well, as time permitted.

>   
> Inks: (This'll probably result in a Background or two, but we can figure that out later)  
> 

They don't seem to appreciate her heartfelt and eminently sensible advice, but they seem happy enough about getting to hit things with swords nonetheless, so Inks counts it as a win. Then it's back to Piercing Sun, and war games, and sorcerous research and practice. She gets better as the days drag on; battle after battle - though the old tyrant is still an asshole.

And then, of course, there's the talk that kicks off her physical training.

* * *

For all of Inks's physical... inadequacies, as Sun would never say- no one could doubt her willingness to stick to something no matter how hard. While she generally attended the war-gaming dressed... in a dress, she'd recently been bringing a small bag with her- and Vahti. "You've been hinting at it often enough, Sun."

As they finished the latest wargame, Inks's face was carefully neutral as she pulled the ties holding her dress to her neck. The silk fell to the ground with barely a whisper, and Vahti was there with the open bag. From it she pulled out and on fine- and more importantly sturdy looking clothes suited for the weather and exertion.  
Peeling the bindi off her forehead, she stuck it to Vahti's brow. Having redressed in workout clothes, Inks planted her hands on her hips and smiled. "You want me to sweat and work- sure, but she gets to wear the gem if I do."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Inks is Best Boss)  
> 

Piercing Sun actually looks vaguely approving. Is that a tear of pride in his eye?

... probably not. More likely the glint of malicious sadism. But still, his snort sounds positive. "You had to strip down in my war room for that?" he asks. "Fine; lend her your trinket. And what else is it you want? I don't doubt there's something, for you to come prepared like this."

"Well I'm hoping to learn more sorcery, and if I have to do press-ups for that." She shrugged, smiling. "I'm game." 

"On the note of sorcery, I'd like to ask you for help rebuilding Virtuous Guardian of Flame to employ Vahti as an anchor." She adds.

His bushy white eyebrows climb up his forehead as he glances over the flame duck. "Hn," he says. "So that's why you brought her in on this. Not a bad idea. You up for it, girl?"

Vahti nods wordlessly, her usual attitude slightly cowed by the presence of the old Fire Aspect. He humphs, slamming his staff down on the ground. "Fair enough. But you'll be working double time to account for this, you hear me? I've beheaded sorcerers who relied on constructs and golems to protect them while they worked battle-magic. Swear to me you won't be so sloppy."

"If anyone wants my head," Inks stiffened her spine and looked Sun right in the eye. "They're going to pay hard for it."

She wins a savage grin from him. "Good girl," he praises - a rarity. "Now, since I remember you admiring our walls here, you can start with a few laps of them to really admire the craftsmanship..."

* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (So what's next?)  
> ST: ((Timeskip. So, if you wish you may summarize the remainder of the three months, up to the day before the meeting with Iblan Bana, which is when Tatters is reporting everything she's learned - she's put a full seasonal major action into investigating them. Stunt or no, roll 19 dice for Tatters' Perception+Investigation roll, which is fully buffed with all the Style, stunt and Principle dice she can load onto it.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay...)  
> 

"Girl abs!"  
"Girl abs!!"  
"Would you two _shut it?!_ "

Inks pouted at Pipera's only somewhat serious invective. After nearly three months of effort, Inks was looking the best she'd ever been. Taut, firm and still devastatingly curvy. Vahti, being a spirit, adjusted to the fitness regime somewhat differently, but the end result was largely the same- they both had yet more reasons to wander around with midriff baring outfits.

Of course, it was not all fitness and frolic. Inks studied- hard. She absorbed spells almsot as fast as Sun could teach them, learning a handful of others on her own while also redeveloping Virtuous Guardian of Flame into a new anchor. On top of all that, she managed the demon summoning contract with House Circla, ensurig her Deyha were given ample fights to blood themselves against.

And then on top of all that, wedged into the margins while Pipera focused on maintaining Inks's business interests- the Twilight turned her attention to developing the arms and armor they'd need to take on El-Galabi.  
  


>   
> Inks: (rolling for tatters)  
> Inks: (11 sux)  
> 

The exorcist had touched base with Inks several times since the revelation of Iblan Alya's husband - and had been getting increasingly surly about not acting against them. Nevertheless, neither corpse had turned up dumped in the streets with its insides ripped out, so she was presumably still toeing the line.

"Seven people," she says now, sitting cross legged on the floor in the private nook, her ringed staff jangling faintly as she leans it against her shoulder. "Alya and Jad Raheem I told you about; she deserves death and he wants magical materials; the secrets of orichalcum and more tumbaga. Both of them want the Despot's throne held by an Iblan," Pipera draws a sharp breath at that, "and worship the dinar instead of valuing stability."

Her voice softens - or at least loses the surly edge - as she gets more invested in explaining, her body leaning slightly towards Inks like a flower opening petals to the sun. "That looks like a split that goes through the whole council - some are on Bana's side in being conservative and wanting stability, others are after profit. And a few want an Iblan on the throne. Iblan Rose Marble is the third of _them_ ; the Despotic attache, who deals with all the hiring and labour and city permits and... the stuff that needs House Iblan to connect to the city."

"Not a vital key to power, then," Pipera puts in. "They could spread that work out and have different offices handle it; she's just there to streamline things."

Tatters shrugs. "If you say so. But she's as throne-hungry as the other two, even though she's conservative."

"Hmm...." Inks folded one leg over the other and sat back in her seat. "I think the best plan is to set up Asenya with the information on Ayla and her husband, to spring on Bana during the meeting." She looked to Pipera. "Do you think you can arrange that on more official grounds, or should we leave the incriminating evidence on her desk-" the latter she noted to Tatters as an option. "The first step, no matter what, to deal with Ayla is to strip her of her protections, then deliver righteous justice. If we can do that and push through with resolving House Iblan in general, all the better."

While her friends chewed on those points, Inks turned her own brilliance to focusing on the network of power players under and around Iblan Bana. If her dedication to stability was so ironclad, then there was likely no way to moderate her position. Maybe later, but for now Inks couldn't prove she wasn't going to be a net-negative either. She juggled a mental map of their power structures, idly weighing one over the other as she examined the consequences of invoking their relationships.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Invest/Soc to shake loose more ideas about the councilors)  
> ST: ((I mean, waiting for the info on the others before a solid strategy would help. :P))  
> Inks: (sure, let's do that~)  
> 

"You mean to go on the offensive in this meeting?" Pipera questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you were just going to get the measure of the woman."

Inks nodded. "Ayla's poor choice in husbands is time sensitive, but that's true. I could easily separate the two objectives."

"I would advise more set-up," Pipera muses. "Especially for Asenya, who's a difficult woman to get hold of..."

"So we wait?" Tatters snaps, bristling again. "Even longer?"

"Hmm... To an extent. We could sabotage Ayla's interests so that she can't prey on slaves until we're ready to take her down decisively." Inks worked her jaw. "The fast, decisive solution would be to invoke Piercing Sun. Or even the Despot, but I doubt Rankar cares as long as it doesn't impact Gem or his position." She paused again. "And I'd rather not get Rankar involved on principle."

"The Despot would care, if only for the backlash it would get," Pipera points out. "And he would react... poorly, to the desires of some of the Council for the throne. What about the other four, though? How much support does Bana have on the council for her conservative views?"

"... four of seven," Tatters says, reluctantly dropping the argument for moving directly on Alya. "Flickering Gold is the last profit-chaser; the keeper of the treasury. He's some young genius prodigy from a branch house who got adopted at ten or so when they realised how smart he was. He's..."

She frowns. "We had a word for it, I don't how you say it... bad with people? With... social things? He cares about numbers and facts and figures; people confuse and annoy him. He wants to Iblan treasury to grow but he's not really concerned about the people around it. If you brought down Bana I don't think he would care."

"So apart from Rose Marble, that leaves the last three in Iblan Bana's corner on the conservative side, without any desire for the throne," Pipera concludes. Tatters nods.

"You won't flip Omar. He's her son, he's old - in his early seventies - he's conservative to a fault and he bows to his mother in everything. But the people in the Mint _hate_ him. He takes out all of the browbeating he gets from his mother on his little fiefdom, like a tyrant of a little kingdom. The workers there would cheer if he got replaced." Tatters huffs with scorn. "He nearly did, twenty years ago, in some scandal that almost ruined him. It's why he loathes forgers. He's really not happy with you," she directs at Inks. "Something about a coin?"

"I had to make a point somehow." Inks shrugged. "So two more conservatives after Iblan Omar?"

"Well, you definitely made it," mutters Tatters. "And yes. Iblan Virtuous Jade - she's another one who you'll have trouble with. Probably the most conservative member of the whole council. Their high priestess. She runs the temple, and the temple maintains the birth registers, settles legitimacy disputes, handles adoptions..." She's talking like this is something she knows well - and maybe she does. She could easily have been a priestess in a similar temple before whatever drove her to Gem. "She's very reactionary to sin, though. She doesn't like the Dead, or Asenya. She doesn't like your demons. She's even flip-flopped on the Despot having a half-breed Ifrit sorceress in the past."

But despite the glum outlook, Pipera looks taken by a sudden idea. "So if she found out Bana's granddaughter was married to a raksha, and we managed to paint the fault for that on her upbringing and parents and grandparents..." she says, thoughtfully.

"Sounds like something we can work with." Inks agreed.

"If you say so," shrugs Tatters. "And the last one is Iblan Kahlil." Her voice sours. "I already knew about him. He's their head of security, he runs their in-house thugs and legbreakers who enforce their monopoly and guard their vaults and smelting yards and brutalize their slaves. He's and addict to a couple of brands of hard drug, and there are some rumours about a grudge between him and the Circla. Whatever it was happened a long time ago, and I couldn't find anything when I looked - there are far too many ghosts who hate him to question them all - but _he_ certainly hates the Circla family bitterly. Especially some woman in it. I don't know who."

"So really I have every reason to make Iblan clean house anyway, personal agenda or not." Inks tapped her chin, thinking.

"What's it to be tomorrow, then?" Pipera asks. "Taking her measure and deciding on the best plan, or trying to launch something with little notice?" Spying Tatters' immediate stiffening, she adds "you at least have a way to get a near-instant meeting with her now, if necessary. Word of her granddaughter's activities, or Rose Marble's desire for the throne, or some such. She may be trying to blockade you, but she can't safely ignore a threat like that if it lands on her desk."

"Her measure, I think. The meeting is already going to happen- so the advantage of putting a threat on her desk is privacy..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmm, conviction 5 to stick to her plan, vs comp 3 to stop the predations of Ayla's husbando?)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (3 sux on Conviction, vs 2 sux on Compassion)  
> ST: ((Nice. However, her continued refusal to act is a scene spent eroding Tatter's faith in her.))  
> Inks: (Yeah I'm picking up on that, I'm debating what I want to do/suppress)  
> ST: ((She is pretty high-Conviction, as a note.))  
> Inks: (So it takes a lot to break her faith, yes?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (Okay. Hmm... Yeah, I'll stick with the plan. typan)  
> 

"We'll meet with Bana and keep our advantages close to the chest." Inks decided. "Once I have my measure of Bana and Virtuous Jade, I'l make my decision on what to do with Ayla and when."

>   
> Inks: (I admit I'm having an RP challenge because it's Inks's MO to make people her friends, so I'm actively resisting that bias in order to round out her character.)  
> ST: ((Heh.))  
> ST: ((Fair enough! Then I think we'll close the session there, and have Bana next session.))  
> Inks: (cause she totally would try to make Bana her friend by revealing this intrigue to her)  
> Inks: (Works for me!)  
> ST: (4xp + 1mxp + 2Sxp for stud'yin')  
> Inks: (Heh. Works.)  
> Inks: (nothing for impressing Sun~?)  
> Inks: (teasing)  
> 


	44. 44: The Halls of House Iblan

A new day dawns over Gem. Faint tremors - barely noticeable, but present - shake the ground; a minor earthquake. Uncommon, but not unheard of. The gentle shuddering is no threat to most of Gem's blocky, solid houses, and certainly not to the manor in Seventh Scorpion, in which Inks is getting ready for a meeting with a noble house's head.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Is there anything Inks wants to get done before meeting with Bana? If not, you can just stunt her preparations and who she'll be taking with her - bearing in mind that, for instance, Maji may well not go down well or be allowed in.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thinking/writing)  
> Inks: (I can't think of what I want to do with the 3 weeks I freed up, so 'nothing' is fine. No can I commit to any training plans just yet. But before I meet with Bana, I'm going to use Evidence Discerning Method on her, rolling per+investigation at Diff 1, minus her Manip+soc /2 if she obfuscates. Stunting...)  
> 

Days before the scheduled meeting, Inks cajoled Tatters out of her righteous funk long enough to interview her on Iblan Bana once more. "Tell me how she moved, how she breathes, the slant of her eyes, anything." Inks held a stick of charcoal in her hand while Tatters glared at her. The exorcist huffed. "The woman slept fitfully- that's what I remember. Burdened, like most powerful people. She did not sweat in the night..." The details tumbled out bit by bit, until Inks had a picture- a portrait in her hand, as well as a measure of the woman in her mind.

>   
> Inks: (Stunted EDM, any stunt/tool/aide bonus to the roll?)  
> ST: ((She's not obfuscating. Tatters can give you a +3.))  
> Inks: (11 successes, capping at negating 4 points of external penalty).   
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

An old woman, set in her ways and unwelcoming of change. That's the impression Inks gets. Iblan Bana has ruled her house for decades; a woman of almost a century who's known for moving against anything that threatens Gem's economic stability or ability to support itself.

She doesn't like the thought of things being shaken up; she doesn’t like innovation or radical changes to politics or infrastructure, and no doubt she sees Inks as a destabilizing influence whose presence will tip Gem over onto its head and spell disaster and doom for the rule of the Great Houses.

The sticking point Inks faces, she decides, is that this coincidentally happens to be exactly and entirely correct; both outcomes are definitely going to happen short of one of Piercing Sun's training sessions going a mite too far and leaving her dead from exhaustion. 

Iblan Bana might be saying it because she’s old and stubborn and bluntly conservative, but she’s not _wrong_ , per say, that Inks’ ascendancy is probably going to spell bad things for House Iblan in particular and the monopoly system in general.

With those preparations done, Inks debated and discussed her approach in the meeting itself. For Maji, the solution was simple- smuggle him in via her tattoo. It was a technique neither of them liked using, but the risks justified it in Inks's mind. Diving into her wardrobe, Inks came back dressed with a professional gown that was maybe a touch more conservative than she preferred-

But would go over better with the Iblans. She and Vahti had a good laugh before the meeting when arranging for her 'bodyguard in training' outfit, and Pipera dressed herself with an expert eye towards being the ideal executive assistant- a shadow under the water to Inks's bright sun.

A sword quickly decked out in ceremonial filigree completed Vahti's image, nothing they'd feel too bad about getting confiscated, and set off to meet the Iblans.

House Iblan is the oldest in Gem, dating all the way back to its founding. Its ancient seat of power is deep, deep down in the furthest depths of the city; the southern end of the coveted and expensive Throne tunnels. It's said they have private entrances to the extensive mine networks down there - and certainly, the access shafts for the upper mines must pass very close to them.

Inks, Vahti and Pipera are shown amidst sour looks and hard stares from the smooth, scented, glowstone-lit throne tunnels into the Iblan halls. To call them rich would be to make princes weep. They are _lavish_. Wide and spacious, hewn out from the lava tubes to great rectangular halls and square angles; every inch of wall is decorated with carven knotwork or inlays of gold and silver. Rather than smooth oval glowstones, crystal-capped torches provide steady light in the warm hues of firelight, without flicker or smoke or heat.

There are many chambers here, many Iblan nobles dressed in fine satins and cottons, but Inks' party has the opportunity to see few of them. The hall they are led to almost beggars belief that it lies below ground - that it was carved out from solid rock by strength of arm or slaves or sorcery. Inks' eye judges it to be thirty metres wide if it's an inch, and at least twice that in length. Pillars hold up the two-storey ceiling, and everywhere is the lustrous shine of gold.

It clads the walls, as the backdrop to inlays of precious gems and rare woods. It sits in stern repose as busts of long-dead Iblan staring down from sconces; set into pillars and walls at a height to look down on even the tallest man. It covers lines the floor in geometric tiles, which show no scuffs or dents that might be expected from countless feet treading across such soft metal.

It looks like a throne room. But there is no grand chair set against the far wall. No, it is a table that occupies the centre of this vast space, nine-sided and carved from some black stone - obsidian, perhaps.

Three chairs are occupied, on the far side to Inks. She recognizes them all. Iblan Bana, in the middle. Her son, Mint-Master Iblan Omar, on her left. And to her right, Iblan Virtuous Jade, high priestess to the Iblan family gods. Her two strongest supporters on her council of seven.  
  


>   
> Inks: (daaaang. This is really great.)  
> ST: ((ngl, my design notes were basically "Picture what Erebor or Moria at their height would consider tasteful decor. Then do that."))  
> Inks: (It's so Exalted it hurts, and I want it so much for Inks's places~)  
> ST: ((:V))  
> ST: ((Incidentally; what _are_ Inks' current plans regarding House Iblan?))  
> Inks: (Deciding whether to treat them like an obstacle to be removed or a potential ally to cultivate)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (depending on what Inks can do with Soul's Price, she may be able to secure Bana as an Ally or not, or one of the others here)  
> 

Taking a deep, calming breath, Inks moved forward with her customary strut. "Greetings- thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Her smile wasn't forced, but it was far more diplomatic than her traditional 'dazzle the world', flirtatious grins. As her party approached, she waited for the signal that they could be seated, and did so at Bana's frosty nod.

Inks for her part radiated a beatific charm that she hoped would set things at ease. They were her opponents- not her bloodsworn enemies or economic monsters. Pipera and Inks took a seat while Vahti stood behind and to Inks's left, well-drilled in the basics of how to position herself in defense of her mistress.

Glancing between the three Iblans, Inks looked Bana in the eye with a careful, evaluating glance while Pipera handed her a folio of papers on some unspoken cue.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Mastery of SMall Manners 3m to count as App+1, to read Motives super-easy, and for people to treat Inks more nicely; action long. Then, on Bana, Courtier's Eye Technique. Per+Invest + Ess Autosux against Diff 1 minus her DMDV as penalty if she's obfuscating. Success means I know her Resources, Influence, power-via Backing/Contacts, and any Allies she has present in the scene)  
> Inks: (Correction, MoSM costs 1m, Courtier's Eye costs 3m; Inks knows the 'Reading Motivation' results of all 3 Iblans as if she had rolled 3 sux on a Read Motives check)  
> ST: ((3 sux base or 3 sux threshold?))  
> Inks: (It's obnoxiously poorly written, I'm going to assume Threshold)  
> ST: ((Okay, roll (Per+Inv) against -3 penalty for Courtier's eye, adding (Essence) autosux. And I think MoSM is 3 sux base - it means you automatically learn the motives of everyone who's not specialized, but those who are more guarded or skilled you need to pay attention to and try a little harder.))  
> ST: ((It basically lets you get the mood of the extras in the court instantly without having to bother with Read Motives for all of them.))  
> Inks: (That makes sense too!)  
> Inks: (So EDM negates the -3penalty, btw, so I just roll per+invest + autosux~)  
> ST: ((Roll away.))  
> Inks: (rolled 3 sux +4 on investigation, I'll figure out how to use MoSM next time I activate it)  
> 

"Agreeing," says Bana frostily. "As though you didn't force this meeting on us." Her age is evident in every line of her face; her grey hair has barely a spot of colour in it and her skin is scorched and dark and leathery; creased with deep wrinkles and scowl lines. She's an old, old woman, and one surprisingly short and plain for someone so powerful.

And she is powerful. Here, in the seat of her authority, it hangs around her almost palpably. The gold cladding of this room alone is worth more than Inks can estimate offhand, and as Bana sits there as the head of House Iblan, the weight of her family's fortune seems almost physical. More money than Inks has ever seen before. A notable fraction of the wealth of Gem itself. Even cut down to just that which she owns herself, it's formidable. Her authority is no less potent, and she sits with the two strongest allies on her council in her corner.  
  


>   
> ST: ((As head of House Iblan, Bana commands Resources _8_ - only one order of magnitude below Gem itself. Speaking purely of her personal wealth, she has Resources 5 to do with as she please - which Inks can rival in gross income, but she has employees to pay and costs to see to. Bana wields Influence 5 within the bounds of Gem, and Influence 4 across most of the Firepeak Pave, and considers herself to have three potent allies present.))  
> 

"We may as well make this quick, then," the old woman says, her eyes boring into Inks. "Sit down."

>   
> ST: ((Perception+Awareness; Diff 3))  
> ST: ((Hearing based.))  
> 

There was something... at the edge of her attention. Neither of her allies seemed to hear it- and Maji was almost deaf in her tattoo. The gilded pillars seemed to drink in sound but...

>   
> Inks: (Stunted, dice bonus?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: (5+1+2, +1 autosux for 2m)  
> Inks: (1 sux, +1, failed!)  
> 

Whatever it is, Inks can't quite pick it out - it's just an uneasy feeling on the edge of her awareness. She turns her attention to business. There's a jug of crystal-clear, ice-cold water waiting on the table opposite the three Iblans, along with three goblets - the jug gold, the goblets silver.

Putting the uncomfortable feeling out of her mind, Inks nodded. "Let us do that, yes." She flicked open the folio and pulled out a handful of papers dripping with forensic accounting. "A number of smaller businesses and at least one Minor Houses have been attempting to force me out of business, and by extension Gem. My associates and I tracked this influence to House Iblan."

She held up a hand to forestall any indignation, at least for a moment- her tone was level, even and as objective as she could manage. "I can hardly blame you for doing so, but I have come here to see if we can come to an agreement. If not, then not."

"Yes?" Bana says. She might be discussing the weather for all the shock or dismay she evidences. "What of it?"

Virtuous Jade stirs. She's not as ancient a woman as Bana - in her late sixties, Inks estimates - with paler skin and faded green hair. Though the white threading through it washes out the colour, Inks guesses it must have been the shade of glittering emeralds in her youth. It's bound up into an intricate set of loops with golden - no, tumbaga - charms, and her white-and-grey robes are likewise adorned.

"Our guards have been warned, girl," she says. There's an odd rushed hesitation to her words, as if she's deliberating carefully over each sentence before firing it out into the world like the charge of a firewand. "Their ears are stuffed with wax, and they are sworn to their oaths. At the least sign that you try to twist our minds with demonic arts, they will rush in from every corner and cut you down. Speak carefully."  
  


>   
> Inks: (hahahah)  
> ST: ((As it turns out, when your economic enemies who very much don't want to meet you, and you force a meeting with them anyway))  
> ST: ((they get ideas about why you might be doing so))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> ST: ((Hey, at least she let you know!))  
> 

Turning to face the Virtuous Jade, Inks nodded with a simple smile. "Okay!"

Turning back to Bana, Inks nodded. "Well for one, I like Gem and would like to stay. There are things _about_ Gem I don't like, I admit." She paused, smiling more honestly now. "I asked for this meeting- forced it as you all say, because I wanted to understand you all. I am loathe to make enemies, Iblan Bana, and I consider it a personal failing when I resort to threats. But those are tools we both can use, so... parity, I guess?"

"I hardly think so," scoffs Bana. "Parity requires equality. And while you've clawed out a rung on Gem's ladder and ousted one of the Despot's court sorcerers, your reach exceeds your grasp if you think you can match House Iblan's weight." She leans forward. "You want to stay in Gem. I want you to leave. You need not be an enemy, but I won't tolerate you disrupting the order of this city."

She holds Inks' gaze over the black stone table. "Is that clear to your understanding?"

"Very clear." Inks smiled despite the aggression. "But a question- what would you consider order? I'm honestly curious."

Bana regards her for a long moment. "Stability," she replies eventually. "And that is something you care nothing for. Demons called out of Hell in the city proper. A court sorceress, gone from her seat and replaced by you. The production of precious metals outside House Iblan's control. A dislike of the slaves on which the city runs. Elemi, the old warhawk, once again marauding. Virtually everything you have done since arriving has been to disrupt the proven pattern of Gem's course."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Rankar never publicized what happened to Hinna, did he...)  
> Inks: (Wait, Hinna was not publicly recognized as a court sorcerer though, right?)  
> Inks: (like, it was a big deal that she was Secret)  
> ST: ((:3))  
> 

Inks leaned back in her seat, humming. "You are well-informed. Hinna was not a publicly recognized court sorcerer. She was also a yozi-cultist who belonged to a blasphemous sect of sun-worshipers. She kidnapped and attempted to... take something from me, my soul. It's complicated. Of course, that's my word against your information, so you don't have to believe me. The rest you've got the right of it- though I hardly think Hepatizon is 'precious'."

"The word of a demon-consort accusing another of trafficking with Hell," Virtuous Jade scoffs. Bana doesn't agree, but she doesn't speak to stop the accusations either, subjecting Inks to another long stare.

"Not only that, but one who has corrupted an elemental spirit away from its sacred duties to the world," the priestess continues, apparently warming to her topic.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Diff 1 Per+Investigation on Bana to spot something; -3 external penalty.))  
> Inks: (Negated due to EDM~)  
> Inks: (4sux from 9d)  
> 

"Hey!" Vahti objects, shooting to her feet. But Inks is watching Bana, and if the old woman agreed but didn't voice support for Virtuous Jade's first accusation... Inks gets the impression that she's exasperated by this one. The priestess may care about Inks "corrupting" Vahti into acting like her, but Bana doesn't. Yet she still doesn't make a move to stop her council member. Perhaps her two allies in the room are also constraints she needs to appease.

Oh, and also Vahti is vibrating with outrage and about to start ranting back. It might be a good idea to interject.

Inks laid a hand on Vahti's forearm, smiling. "It's okay- calm down."

As the Elemental seemed to cool at Inks's touch, the Twilight explained. "I first encountered Vahti in the Sun Market, wearing a collar that denied her any sense of personality or individuality. So if anyone is to blame for taking her from her sacred duties, it's those slavers more than me. I don't make her stay, but I do employ her."

"I think though we should stay focused on task." Though truth be told, Inks was pretty sure she had what she needed. Before she moved to disengage though, she took one more long look at Iblan Bana...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Knowing the Soul's Price~)  
> Inks: (Diff 1, minus Bana's Man+Soc /2 in external penalties, of which I negate 4.)  
> ST: ((Roll Per+Inv, -3 penalty, Diff 1. 2-dot stunt.))  
> Inks: (13d, 8 successes! )  
> 

Wealth. Power. Fame. Luxury.

All of these are completely meaningless to the old woman who sits at the head of Gem's oldest, wealthiest, most powerful family. She's an old, old woman, and she was austere and brusque even in her youth. Now, the only desire Inks can feel from her - enough to kill for, or at least order others to kill for with no remorse - is stability. She doesn't want to see Gem _change_ , and for the promise of holding it steady and secure with House Iblan in its privileged place at the top, Bana would go to any lengths in her last few years.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Two points - first, is Inks going to ask about the attack on her manor that Tatters beat off, or was she including that under the broad remit of "you've been trying to force me out of Gem economically.))  
> ST: ((And second, I assume this has made up her mind on the subject of What To Do About House Iblan?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, more or less. Some details I'm sorting out, but mostly leaning towards the more Interesting angle of 'let's take down House Iblan'. The Method is gonna be the interesting part. As for the attack, thanks for the reminder.)  
> Inks: (They're... not corrupt, but so entrenched that keeping them around is too expensive for Inks, she'd have to basically pay in blood for them to be happy with her on top)  
> ST: ((Don't have Inks leave the room with your next stunt.))  
> 

"One more specific question- sometime ago, years now maybe, there was an assault on my townhouse that was warded off by a heroic bystander. Do any of you know anything about that?"

Bana appears unperturbed. "Know of it? Of course. But if you're accusing House Iblan, you are mistaken."  
  


>   
> ST: ((I assume Inks will JET that?))  
> Inks: (Yep)  
> ST: ((NOT FALSEHOOD))  
> 

She's telling the truth - or at least, if House Iblan had anything to do with the attack, Bana didn't know about it. But, as Inks watches, something _does_ perturb her. From somewhere behind Inks, echoing between the pillars, there comes a voice.

It's graven and leaden and echoing with hollow rebounds, and it cries out an accusation in archaic Firetongue - an accusation of malice aforethought, and wicked intentions. And it's joined by another such voice, and another, and another, until the great golden-cladded chamber is ringing and reverberating with sound; a crushing weight of furious outrage.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa, Diff 1 to spot where it's coming from.))  
> Inks: (7 sux on 7d)  
> 

It's the statues. The golden busts of past Iblan elders. They're not grave, distant visages sneering down from their sconces anymore. Every single one that Inks can see has turned towards her; face twisted in rage, yelling out accusations about her motives and intent to destroy their ancient noble house. She can hear everything from modern Firetongue to archaic dialects from hundreds of years ago - all comprehensible, but making for a confused and battering storm of sound.

>   
> Inks: (ahahahahaha)  
> ST: ((yyyyyup))  
> ST: ((there's a reason she had it here))  
> ST: ((mechanically, the statues all make passive Read Motivation actions on people they can sense, looking specifically and solely for "the intent to harm House Iblan"))  
> ST: ((If they sense it, they cry out in accusation.))  
> 

"Ahahaha! These are awesome! Wow!" Inks stood up with a laugh, despite the furious invective accusations. She let out a low whistle that went higher, even as Vahti and Pipera both let out sour groans. "Well played, House Iblan!"

>   
> Inks: (I assume you checked against Inks's Man+Soc before doing this?)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Her low Manipulation bit her, though it wouldn't have mattered because the statues, uh, kind of rolled more successes than they actually had dice in their pool. Like, _8 successes_, what the fuck.))  
> Inks: (The thing is I could've used a Socialize Excellency to buff it, is all)  
> Inks: (and/or a stunt, just as a heads up)  
> ST: ((Mmm. My thinking was essentially that Inks didn't really stunt in a way that said she was guarding her motives, and she didn't know they were there - and excellencies are an active thing. If you'd passed that Awareness check you'd have heard them murmuring in uncertainty and had a chance to realize what they were.))  
> Inks: (That's fair, it's one of those weird transparency issues you have to learn while STing. I'm not upset either way)  
> ST: ((Buuuuuut Inks chose that moment to go temporarily deaf. :P))  
> Inks: (Mostly just acknowledging it for the Postmortem)  
> ST: ((Anyways.))  
> 

Turning to face Iblan Bana with a wild, sincere smile on her face. "Well, I suppose this concludes our business today. Was there anything else you'd like to discuss, or shall we go our separate ways?"

The partial Iblan council does not seem as amused as Inks. Doors open in the corners of the great hall, and golden-armoured figures file out. Their spears are long and sharp, their shields tall, their faces masked by stern visages of gold.

Bana brings her hands down on the table in a thunderous clap, and the deafening clamour of the statues subsides.

"Embezzelment, fraud, corruption... when we open the Hall of Ancestors and they sense such things, a dozen will speak in anger, or a score. Should some wretch stand before us with intent to wrench our monopoly away from us or plunder our treasuries, a hundred shouts might go up. But to set the entire hall to thunder? You mean to destroy us as a House," she accuses. "To burn us to the ground in golden fire."

"Unfortunately you'd fight me every step of the way with a moderate approach. No move I could make would be small enough for you. Nothing I could do would appease your House short of leaving outright. So yes, I feel as my only recourse is to break you. By all means, give me another option, or go as far as we will." Inks paused for a moment, drawing herself up to full height. "I have no reason to hurt any of you, and truth be told by the time I'm done we may all be richer than kings. But if you want to stand in my way, so be it."

There's a long, terrible silence. Vahti tenses. Pipera's grip on Inks' hand becomes vice-like, and she can feel her aide's fear. It's an effort of will to keep Maji from exploding out of her tattoo and crossing the table with fangs and claws seeking blood.

"Then so be it," says Bana.

And the spears move in.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Aaaand I think on that note we need to end the session.))  
> ST: ((because holy shit I did not plan for a combat))  
> Inks: Oh dear.  
> ST: ((or this going... this way.))  
> Inks: Neither did I  
> ST: On the other hand  
> ST: this is _definitely_ going to move us towards the "Inks takes over Gem" plotline  
> Inks: were there any problems you had with me as a player today? Like, did I screw anything up?  
> ST: No, no, you were great.  
> Inks: I was roleplaying fine, I think  
> Inks: oh good  
> Inks: I loved this session, it was fantastic.  
> ST: What about you? Did you like the setpiece of the Hall of Ancestors and Bana as an antagonist?  
> Inks: I did, they were both fun  
> Inks: i kinda regret not hearing from the 3rd iblan councilor  
> Inks: as I said in discord, today was a kind of session that... reminded me that more Magic exists in Sunlit Sands, but we have a tendency to forget about it due to all the Talking scenes?  
> Inks: it's a consistency issue, and admittedly a minor one  
> ST: Mmm. Yeah.  
> ST: Well, 5xp + 1mxp then  
> Inks: fun  
> 


	45. Session 45: Battle in the Halls of Iblan

The spears move in.

There are, what, thirty of them? Inks glances around quickly. Yes, something like that. Ten on either side of her, and another ten behind at the door she'd entered through. They're big men; clad in gold-hued plate, faces hidden behind full-face visors, with wide shields and long spears. Their blades are keen, they wear Arbani flamepieces at their hips and Inks can hear the sound of cord under tension behind her that speaks of crossbows. 

Thirty men, all armed and armoured, and her alone in their midst with nothing but a flame duck and a bureaucrat for aid. To most minds, it would be hopeless.

But most minds wouldn't know about Chronicle. Or Maji. And most crucially of all, most minds wouldn't know _Inks_.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice, good job getting me pumped up for this)  
> ST: ((So, mechanically))  
> ST: ((There are three Mag 2 groups of ten men; two of them coming from the middle two doors on each side, and the last coming in from the entrance to the hall. They're all wearing articulated plate with masked helms, and have spears and tower shields, as well as a holstered flamepiece.))  
> ST: ((They're slow, but solid as fuck.))  
> Inks: (Am I going to be penalized by trying to attack magnitudes, since I don't have a unit per se? Like, my Mag 1 vs their Mag 2? I don't know if you axed that rule)  
> ST: ((If you go up against one of their groups and try and eliminate the whole group, then yeah, you're taking a -1 penalty for trying to kill ten men at once.))  
> ST: ((Actually, what's your strategy? Because you may benefit from an Inks-smart hint.))  
> Inks: (Was gonna roll int+war before shit got real, in fact, lemme stunt.)  
> ST: ((Well, I mean, OOC what are you going for? Bust your way out and run to the Despot? Lose yourself in the Iblan halls and hide? Kill everyone and declare yourself Queen of the Underground Empire?))  
> Inks: (I was leaning towards busting out and consolidating either at home or with Piercing Sun. I don't think Rankar would be pleased with this kind of Drama.)  
> Inks: (I'd rather not kill anyone I don't have to, but at the same time, they escalated, so I'm certainly willing)  
> Inks: (I kinda am intrigued by the 'Queen of the Underground' concept though. Bana and her two supporters are in casting range, after all)  
> 

For most, they'd call inspiration a bolt of lighting striking their mind. For Inks, perhaps fittingly, her mental spaces were defined by dawning realizations and the cool tones of the setting sun. Thirty men, three nobles. Her assets- limited. Her eyes flicked all around the room, taking in the din and furor.

Men under tension, some yards away- too far away to attack with Chronicle, not too far for Vahti and Maji. Pipera- terrified out of her mind. She'd owe her a thousand apologies after this debacle.

The crossbows at her back were the primary threat... Would the Iblans counter her sorcery...  
  


>   
> Inks:(Int+War stunt)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +2 "4m for 2nd excellency"; [5, 4, 5, 5, 2, 2, 6, 8, 8, 1] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Eh, could be worse)  
> ST: !ex 6; [5, 5, 9, 10, 8, 3] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Lol))  
> 

Thirty yards. Well within crossbow range. The guards to her sides are still clustered next to the walls a safe distance away, forming up into spearblocks, so it's the ones at the door that are the biggest threat. They aren't coming in, Inks can see - from the orders she can overhear, they want to block her in, and she can hear the side doors slamming shut.

She grasps their intent. It's a stalemate of sorts - but not one that favours her. The crossbows at the door won't fire unless she attacks the nobles or makes a break for them - they're wary of a charge that wouldn't give them reloading time, and there's not enough of them to fire and still have some ready. But they don't need to. They can see her strategy just as she can see theirs - and by blocking the entrance, they leave twenty armed men in the room with her and few ways out.

Of course, they still don't know about Maji. And those great pillars, if she positions herself right, could block their line of sight...  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the bowmen are all hanging back against the wall in front of the main door, which just got closed behind them. That means Spear blocks L and R, with Bana/co directly ahead of Inks and the obsidian table.... We haven't Joined Battle yet, etiher, so that'll be a thing we ought do soon?)  
> ST: ((Indeed. That'll be when someone first makes a move. So... now, I suppose. Roll JB!))  
> Inks: (Okay, so OOC, Move Action over the Table, pulling Pipera and Vahti along with me. Gonna include them in the stunt as well. Can Maji roll JB while in Inks's tattoo or does he have to be deployed?)  
> ST: ((Deployed. Also, can you flurry a Move, a feat of strength and a JB roll all at once?))  
> Inks: (Move is reflexive, I won't get to do the 'lift a table' thing until I know who acts when. I'll walk you through it once we know the results)  
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> Inks: (Okay, so Inks and co are Moving, Maji is hopping out of Inks's tattoo as part of his Join Battle (you can use charms during JB as if it were an Action), so that means he JBs as well. You don't have to roll for Bana and co if they aren't combatants)  
> Inks: (I'm assuming Vahti has JB if like 6 and Pipera is the same as Inks, so before stunt like 5d)  
> 

"On me, ladies!" Inks sprang forward, reaching out with one hand to tug Pipera along with her as she vaulted the obsidian table. Her bare thigh slid across the glossy surface like butter on hot metal, and she landed on the far side just in front of Iblan Bana and her two backers. "Heya!"

Ignoring the nobles for the moment, Inks whispered in her mind to the tiger-in-her-tattoo, her plan spilling out in lightning-quick thoughts and intentions- And suddenly there was a **TIGER** standing on the obsidian table, roaring a challenge to the ceiling and shaking dust from the rafters.  
  


>   
>  (Join Battle Stunt)  
> ST: ((Heh. 2 dice. And yes, Pipera has 6d.))  
> Inks: !ex 7 +2 "Inks wits+aware + style +2d; +2 sux"; [2, 5, 10, 8, 8, 3, 5] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Nice. Rolling for the soldier groups.))  
> Inks: !ex 11 "Maji wits 3 awa 3 excellency +3d +2 stunt"; [7, 6, 2, 8, 1, 3, 7, 10, 9, 4, 4] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: !ex 5 "Group L"; [7, 3, 1, 6, 3] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: !ex 5 "Group R"; [9, 6, 5, 10, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: !ex 5 "Group D(oor)"; [6, 4, 2, 1, 6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 6 "Pipera"; [6, 5, 8, 1, 1, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Lol. So the soldiers on her right kind of react, but the rest are taken completely off-guard by her stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 "Vahti"; [3, 9, 5, 10, 8, 6] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (Alright so Inks and Maji are now acting on Tick 0. Everyone else subtracts their result from 6 to get their First Tick. This means that Group R and Vahti act on Tick 2; Pipera on Tick 4; Group L acts on tick 5; Group D on tick 6.)  
> Inks: (if Inks had a lot of JB adders, this rule would have resulted in the Tick 6 Cluster, where everybody gets pushed back to T6)  
> 

Inks' sudden movement and slide takes most of the soldiers completely by surprise. As well as Pipera, apparently. The group on her right sort of manage to keep up, as does Vahti - and of course her beloved Maji is perfectly in-time with her - but the rest are blindsided by her audacity.

>   
> ST: ((Maji is helping her flip the table, I assume?))  
> Inks: (What Str+Ath do I need first?)  
> Inks: (Obsidian is glass, essentially, so it's not actually Super Heavy, by no means Light either)  
> ST: ((It's a grand, heavy stone table table, so it's 8 to lift it, and 6 to tip.))  
> Inks: (Okay! Inks is Str 3 + Ath 1, I get to add my stunt to the value, of course, and if I channel a Virtue, I get to add that to my FoS rating directly... I think I can guarantee a +2 stunt for this, so I'll have Maji do something More Fun!)  
> Inks: (What is maji's conviction rating?)  
> ST: ((He's Valour 4, which is his highest))  
> ST: ((So probably Conviction 3))  
> Inks: (Loom Stride keys off Conviction, damn, so 9 yards at best. Can't do what I wanted then. Loom Stride to teleport from the table to the crossbow dudes- behind them, technically. I could still do it, it would just put Maji in front of them  
> Inks: (the spearfolk are closer though)  
> Inks: (Like, if they're within 9 yards, I may do this anyway)  
> ST: ((12-15, given the width of the room.))  
> Inks: (Damn, and he can't move once he strides)  
> Inks: (Alright, rethinking)  
> Inks: (...lulz, he has a jump distance of 11, 22 yards horizontally. This may in fact be scarier. Okay! Current plan- Maji will Flurry- jumping into Group L, landing and Clawing the group, his to-hit would be 8d after flurry penalties.)  
> Inks: (stunt incoming)  
> ST: ((he what the fuck now))  
> Inks: (Str 7, Ath 4 = 11 yards base leap range)  
> ST: ((...))  
> Inks: (heh. Are you gonna change it?)  
> ST: ((I'll allow it with Maji, at least for now, but we should probably look at that. Because a mammoth has Strength 14, Athletics 4, and should definitely not be able to jump 18 yards vertically from a standing start.))  
> ST: ((I mean, the North would be a lot more interesting (and terrifying) if they _could_.))  
> ST: ((But they shouldn't.))  
> Inks: (Logical- the jump rules assume Exalted, for starters, so it's understandable that they're not perfect at modeling everything)  
> Inks: (C'mon baby, give me some VALOR CHECKS!)  
> 

Moving almost in sync, Inks and Maji took command of the room with _purpose_. The great bronze tiger's muscles bunched up, hackles raised and nose crinkled in a righteous snarl- that these pitiful wretches would raise a weapon against his mistress?!

Unacceptable.

Forgoing the subtle magics of a god-blood, the tiger /pounced/. He landed with a great ringing crash, his bronze paws denting the polished floor, and his claws ripping up furrows of burnished gold. Lashing out with one great paw, he swiped across the mob of spearmen who would dare assault his Inks!

In the same moment that the tiger's weight left the table, Inks braced her back against it and _heaved!_. Muscles honed by swinging around a grand daiklave strained, but the table rose on one edge, tilted-  
  


>   
> Inks: (So that's Maji's flurry and Inks's Feat of Strenght Action, both are Speed 5, so we act again on Tick 5)  
> Inks: (okay, so that's Step 1 btw, Declare Action, Stunt. Now we're on Step 2- Group Left declares Defense; PDV or DDV?)  
> Inks: (and they stunt their defense, of course)  
> 

With a cry of alarm, the startled men slam down their tower shields and brace for his impact, putting the weight of man and armour behind the towering, curved slabs of metal.

>   
> ST: ((PDV is 6, armour gives them +9 soak.))  
> Inks: (Alright, Maji's stunt bonus for the attack?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 11 "TIGER CLAAAWWW!"; [9, 6, 8, 1, 9, 1, 1, 2, 7, 5, 10] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> Inks: (Ouch, whiff)  
> Inks: (Alright, so that was step 3 into step 5, attack fails, now Inks- +2 stunt for her I assume, so her str+ath is now 3+1+2 and she tips the table?)  
> ST: ((She does indeed. Hmm.))  
> 

Maji's claws slam into the row of overlapping tower shields, but - despite his mass - they hold. Barely. His claws send up a shriek of metal-on-metal and cut silvery scratches across the gold surface layer of the shields, and Inks can hear the grunts and groans of strain behind them.

Behind _her_ , the Iblan nobles are hurriedly moving away, fleeing back towards the far end of the hall, away from the oncoming fight. Given their age, it's slow going - and Vahti is eyeing them nastily.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So the table has been tipped over and is now [Some level] of Cover?)  
> ST: ((75% cover, yes))  
> ST: ((+3 to ranged defence))  
> Inks: (Awesome)  
> 

 

 

>   
> Inks: (Tick 0: Inks/Maji; Tick 1: Nobody; Tick 2: Group R/Vahti; Tick 3: Nobody; Tick 4: Pipera; Tick 5: Group L, Inks,Maji; Tick 6: Group D; Inks and Maji are listed twice as they still 'fall in this span of ticks')  
> Inks: (So now we're on tick 1, and speaking for myself, Inks, Pipera and Maji are not going to move/don't need to move. Vahti can move [dex] yards anywhere she wants. The spearmen can move [dex] yards as well, likely towards Inks?)  
> Inks: (Well, dex - mobility penalty)  
> Inks: (The thing about tracking per/tick movement is you just need to be willing to keep the movement simple, 'towards X, away from Y, etc'.)  
> ST: ((Yes. Though their Move is only 1, due to penalties.))  
> Inks: (Tankiest Tanks, then.)  
> Inks: (Okay, so describe whoever is Doing Stuff on Tick 1, and then we move on to Tick 2; basically all you can do is Move)  
> Inks: (Also no valor rolls yet? Interesting~)  
> ST: ((If they hadn't managed to block that tiger pounce, there would have been.))  
> ST: ((But turning back his claws has encouraged them a little.))  
> 

The right hand group aren't able to do much with Maji still in front of them, but the left begin to advance on Inks, Vahti and Pipera. The table is tipped towards the door; giving them a clear path to their targets.

>   
> Inks: (Awesome, tick 2! So can Vahti do stuff like throw fireballs?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. What are the canon abilities of a flame duck?))  
> ST: ((Affinity Fire Control, then, yeah. I'm not sure if that Charm allows ranged.))  
> Inks: (It does, but as I said in discord, it seems need 'Stuff' to work)  
> Inks: (Alight, Vahti will... roll valor because she's pissed?)  
> Inks: !ex 3; [9, 1, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Okay, she's a valoring- I'm assuming she's gonna try and Hostage the Iblans, they're in range of her movement after all)  
> Inks: (This isn't what I/Inks wants her todo, but it seems right?)  
> Inks: (sorry was fixing the map)  
> Inks: (Okay, we're on Tick 2 so far, Vahti valor rolled and is likely gonna do something, checking tick tracking for everyone else...)  
> Tick 2: Group Spear R/Vahti; Tick 3: Nobody; Tick 4: Pipera; Tick 5: Group Spear L, Inks, Maji; Tick 6: Group archers Door;  
> Inks: (So on tick 2, anyone who wants to can move [Dex] yards, Vahti, I figured last week was gonna try and do something untoward to the Iblans... )  
> ST: ((Yes. On that note; something to be aware of. Vahti modeled her personality after Inks, but focused more on the, mm, visible bits and the methodology than the underlying stuff - hence why she isn't as business-focused, etc. She also took a bit from Maji, since he was another formative influence closely tied to Inks.))  
> Inks: (Right, hence 'untoward the Iblans' I'm trying to think of what mechanical she'd use)  
> ST: ((The net result of this is that she's probably higher-Valour than Inks, and doesn't necessarily share her ideals about sanctity of life at the same level. So don't assume she's going to hold them hostage.))  
> Inks: (Fair!)  
> Inks: (do you want to control Vahti or should I continue?)  
> ST: ((Honestly, they're old men and women - especially Bana. She may just be planning to beat on them with no clear goal in mind beyond anger.))  
> ST: ((Hmm. Well, if you want to have Inks shout a "don't kill them" she'll probably listen.))  
> Inks: (legit. How about we abstract them as a group with a called shot, so minimal attack rolls, lemme write this out, it should work out fine)  
> Inks: (Assuming Vahti's got a decent MA score instead of a Melee score, so like for the moment)  
> Inks: (Ready for Vahti's action?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, go for it.))  
> 

Billowing heat rolled off of Vahti's arms and shoulders, making the air ripple like liquid as she stalked towards the Iblan elders. "You! You stupid short sighted-" Her vocabulary failed her, knowing what she knew from Inks but not quite managing the full depth of her friend's comprehension.

The ceremonial sword was ignored in favor of her tiny fists, and she lashed out with spirit-quick blows, one Iblan down, two, brusied and bloodied- with Bana's robe in her grip and one fist raised when Inks shouted- "Stop!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (so intending dex+MA + spirit excellency at [called shot external penalty])  
> ST: ((Remind me what the base flame duck Dex is?))  
> Inks: (4)  
> Inks: (RoGD writeup says MA 4, but I'm fine assuming she's not that well trained yet, so MA 2-3)  
> ST: ((Cool. MA 2, since you haven't done much training yet. -1 called shot penalty - they're not hard targets.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 -1; [10, 9, 2, 4, 10, 4, 10, 6, 8, 10] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (10 on 10 successes, Vahti is a lucky ducky)  
> Inks: (So 9 minus their DV whatever that is, we skipped a couple of combat resolution steps but that's okay. I feel it's safe to assume that Vahti's given them a thrashing to remember and has Bana in her grip)  
> ST: ((... oooo. Oh dear. That's... 8 threshold successes, and they only have 1B soak. Roll damage?))  
> ST: ((Because with that good a roll she may legitimately have killed someone by accident.))  
> Inks: (Well, they're not Extras, so they have 7HLs)  
> Inks: !ex 11; [2, 2, 6, 5, 9, 6, 3, 7, 5, 5, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Lucky. A good roll there could have been awkward.))  
> Inks: (That puts them in their -1 HLs, maybe not Bana, but they're gonna be Feeling it tomorrow)  
> Inks: (So do any of the Iblan guards move on tick 2?  
> 

Vahti stops, her balled fist hovering in front of Bana's face. To the woman's credit, she looks defiantly up at the younger, stronger spirit with no evidence of fear on her face.  
Unfortunately, her attack on their head of house prompts the group on the right of the room to charge - and from the sounds of it, the crossbows at the doors are searching for a clear shot.

>   
> Inks: (Alright, so Group R is moving [1] yard towards Vahti per tick until their acting tick~)  
> Inks: (They're about 12-15 yards away depending on how they started in the room, so until their acting tick, they're sloooow)  
> ST: ((Group R's action tick is tick 2, eg now, and they're flurrying a Dash forward and a flamepiece attack on Inks.))  
> Inks: (Oh, shit, I forgot! Fun!)  
> ST: ((:P))  
> Inks: (Okay, so that means they're Dashing, Readying Weapons, and Attacking)  
> Inks: (So -3 yards to their dash rate iirc, -4d from the unrolled ready weapon, and I am absolutely certain -5d on their actual attack roll)  
> ST: (("Characters can draw their weapon at the beginning of a flurry of attacks, subject to the -1 DV penalty for their miscellaneous action." -pg 143.))  
> Inks: (uh... yes? That's what I just said. It's still a misc action which you include in the flurry?)  
> ST: ((I can't parse whether the Ready Weapon adds a multiple action penalty to that.))  
> Inks: (It does, it's a misc action, any action you take impacts the dice pool in a flurry)  
> Inks: (this is why nobody does weapon switching unless it's Reflexive)  
> Inks: (any non-reflexive action unless otherwise stated)  
> Inks: (Mortals tank their pools when they try to flurry- those Iblan dudes now have a DV of...)  
> ST: ((Basically nothing, yes. They're wide open due to panic.))  
> Inks: (Right, so Dodge DV -2, and they cannot parry anyway, but having switched to flamepieces, they basically only have their bare-handed parries now)  
> Inks: (or would, if they weren't dashing! Taaaactiiiics!)  
> ST: ((Tch. Fair enough. Okay, so that... /barely/ gets them in range with the flamepieces. Unfortunately its damage is 8L flat, so they only need to beat your DV - and while Inks may be able to dodge a gout of flame, Pipera is right next to her.))  
> Inks: (Okay, so flame pieces have 8 yard range as well, so they've moved [4] yards on tick 2... Good point. Inks hasn't moved yet on this tick. Now the game doesn't model this kind of thing though- )  
> ST: ((So, shall I roll for their attack?))  
> Inks: (that is to say, Pipera mechanically gives Inks a cover bonus, but the game doesn't care about intervening targets when evaluating damage. I'm fine with it, just pointing it out. Stunting a dex 2 move, Call the Blade for Chronicle, and a big Parry)  
> Inks: (Sure, I'm still gonna stunt my DV though)  
> 

While Vahti committed another diplomatic offense, Inks rounded on the charging Iblan sentries. Pipera, still at her side, trembled even with her hands drifting towards her hidden darts. Moving around, Inks put herself between the rising flamepieces and her assistant, calling Chronicle to her hand in a whorl of Essence!  
She shoved the blade point first into the ground at an angle, braced against it and the first gouts of flame!

>   
> Inks: (Stunted Parry, base DV of... 5-1 from last action, +whatever my stunt is, and iirc you want me to roll my stunts normally?)  
> ST: ((Yup. 2 dice.))  
> Inks: (Okay, since you want me to roll, I'm gonna spend 4m on 2nd Melee to pad this out a touch, rollan the 2d)  
> Inks: !ex 2; [5, 5] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Good call, so 4 +2 for a final PDV of 6)  
> Inks: (So we're technically in step 3, attacker rolls, we skip step 4 as they can't use 3rd excellency equivs, and step 5 is where we apply their result to my DV)  
> ST: ((Dex 2+Flamepiece Style 2+1 Accuracy+4 Conviction channel-5 multiple action=4 dice. So they're unlikely to manage it, alas.))  
> ST: !ex 4; [10, 10, 7, 9] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((...))  
> Inks: (Wellthen.jpg. A miss, a damned close miss)  
> ST: ((Okay, you still didn't get hit, but that was impressive enough that I feel obliged to give them /something/.))  
> Inks: (Of course)  
> Inks: (Watch as it burns of Inks's dress or something)  
> ST: ((Shit, if they hadn't been extras and had been allowed to stunt...))  
> ST: ((Also that is a great idea and I'm stealing it.))  
> Inks: (Technically if they're Extras they can't channel WP/virtues either)  
> ST: ((Huh. Well, w/e. They didn't stunt and just barely missed, so we'll stick with that.))  
> Inks: (it's fine~)  
> 

The gout of flame - from four separate barrels - billows out as if from the mouth of a dragon - indeed, Inks realises, it _is_ coming from the mouths of the golden dragons the flamepieces are carved to look like. It billows over Chronicle in a great cloud, singeing Inks' knuckles where they're wrapped around the hilt, and while the torrent is split by the golden blade, the tongues of fire that spread inward into the narrow wedge of safety catch on Inks' silks and veil; blackening and charring them.

>   
> Inks: (Nice. I was gonna do the singed knuckles thing myself too!)  
> Inks: (Okay, so tick 3 was empty- Group R's speed was... 5, same as Vahti's, so they're gonna act again on tick 7  
> Inks: (Tick 3 is empty, but everybody can move)  
> Inks: (Inks won't, Vahti probably will let the Iblans go unless you say otherwise, and move back the [dex] yards to Inks and co, Pipera's still frightened and waiting for tick 4. The Iblans that just fired at Inks can still move at dash speeds)  
> ST: ((Okay, so! Group R will continue dashing until they reach the Iblan elders, while Vahti is going to flit back to Inks and Pipera. Now, a question. A very important, interesting question.))  
> ST: ((_Can Vahti use her element control outside of her combat action?_))  
> Inks: (doubtful, it's a Simple Scenelong Charm, so I think once she does activate it, she can use all the fire she wants)  
> Inks: (So tick 7 at the earliest.)  
> ST: ((Hmm.))  
> ST: ((I'm going to say that the flames will have _mostly_ dispersed by then, but there'll still be some left.))  
> Inks: (The charm deals in 'barrels', so if they're any left, i'd call it One Barrel, it'd be up to Vahti then to make more~)  
> Inks: (So tick 3 passes, Tick 4, Pipera! Do you want to play her, or should I?)  
> ST: ((You can. And Pipera is not in any way a fighter and knows it, so, uh... roll Valour 2 to not panic!))  
> Inks: !ex 2; [7, 6] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Act away.))  
> Inks: (lemme look up her messaging charm...  
> Inks: (Oh good, it can work. Piercing Sun's fort is within 15 miles of Gem, yes?)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

"This is going so very well, isn't it Inks?" Pipera's tone was acid, even as she took a steadying breath against the terror. "What should I do?"

"If you can, send word Piercing Sun. After that-" Inks shook out her burned fingers, smiling despite the sting. "Tell him House Iblan is trying to kill us and that I'll train til my bones crack if he'll help us out!" 

Fists raised and watching the Iblan guards, Vahti hissed."He won't get here in time!"

"I know!" Inks winced. "That's our problem, but I'll take what I can get!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (we can roll to better compose the message if necessary, I'd rather not 'get it wrong' for insufficiently thought out phrasing)  
> ST: ((Nah, that's fine. What's the gist of what you're trying to communicate/what you want him to do?))  
> Inks: (Get him to exert social/military pressure on Iblan to hamper their ability to chase us, and to prevent them from assaulting Inks's holdings/innocent people throughout Gem.)  
> Inks: (I'm aware that this is more like 'we have to survive first' but I feel this will put us in a stronger position to deal with Iblan after we get out0  
> ST: ((Yup. It's a risk - he cares about the stability of Gem, and House Iblan is one of the oldest and most integral parts of it. Not saying it won't work, just noting that the consideration of 'which does he value more; me or House Iblan?' is something you should keep in mind for both Piercing Sun and Rankar wrt this.))  
> ST: ((Of course, "House Iblan is trying to murder us" means that the initial first impression is in your favour from a they-started-it perspective.))  
> Inks: (Good point, let's hope it works out!)  
> Inks: (So the charm is speed 6, Pipera acts again on tick 10)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> Inks: (Tick 5, Spear Group L, Maji, Inks!)  
> 

Inks puts Pipera's frantic whispering to the side, and focuses on the battlefield. Vahti has darted back to her and Pipera as the plume of fire around them begins to fade. The Iblan guards are hurrying their elders away - towards the back of the hall, for some reason, rather than a side door.

Maji, and the guards across the hall, have both recovered from their clash. She can _feel_ her familiar's proud, furious outrage; his desire to fight and triumph.  
  


>   
> ST: ((State Inks' and Maji's actions.))  
> Inks: (Ooh nice! Calling this out for the post-mortem, you're revealing good detail and using the Dash Move of Group R to facilitate More Interesting Stuff. As they get further away though it means they have to spend more time charging back)  
> Inks: (Okay, I'm assuming I'd have to Flurry to do this for Maji, but he's gonna use Subtle Whisper (Supplemental Scenelong) to make social attacks with no apparent source- spirit ventriloquism, baisically. With intent of prompting VALOR ROLLS! Then as part of his flurry he's gonna take another swipe at Group L)  
> Inks: (as for Inks- Group R has moved far enough away that there's more of a clear run to the right side of the room, which means those guard-entrances while closed are now unbarred.... That leaves the archers though to deal with.)  
> Inks: (So Inks will Shape Sorcery (Simple Speed 6) from behind cover, and bring herself up to level 2 anima flare. I shall stunt?)  
> ST: ((You shall. Does Maji need to roll?))  
> Inks: (yes, for both the social attack and swipe)  
> ST: ((Stunt & roll, then))  
> 

The great bronze tiger snarled, but instead of a low and threatening rumble, what actually came out- thundering across the room from no apparent source was a great and terrifying roar! It shook the dust from the pillars and vaulted ceiling, silencing the tumultuous din of stamping feet and armor! In the same heartbeat, Maji rushed forward, slamming claw and shoulder into the shield wall ahead of him!

>   
> ST: ((Okay, so do they take their Valour roll before or after their action for this tick?))  
> Inks: (oh, that's a good point... Generally the game assumes all 'Actions' happen simultaneously, unless you want to go granular and track it by say, first come first serve or whoever has higher wits, etc)  
> ST: ((... I'm gonna say after, then, and they're attacking Maji with spears at the same time.))  
> ST: ((So, lol, both sides have DV penalties from lunging simultaneously.))  
> Inks: (Okay! Yeah, Maji's at DV -2, and the iblans are at -1)  
> Inks: (btw I am gonna be invoking the Morale Rules on page 156 of corebook)  
> 

In the same moment that Maji lunged, the shield wall sprouted death. A dozen tumbaga-tipped spears emerged from above the towering plates of golden metal and lanced down, seeking his armoured hide!

Maji's agility defied his bulk, for he was no mere beast. Great Grandson of a god of war, he shifted his flanks and let the spears skate off his bronze hide!  
  


>   
> ST: ((Oh, hey, neat. Those Diffs _are_ useful.))  
> Inks: (Quick +1d stunt, he'd be using 1st dex on both attack and dodge, adding 3d each. And 1st Charisma on his social attack)  
> Inks: (Yeah, and most opponents check them against their unrolled valor first)  
> Inks: (so like, a valor 1 dude against a diff 2 opponent just breaks)  
> ST: ((Okay, so they've got a PDV of 6-1=5, and their attack pool is 4+1=5.))  
> 

 

 

>   
> ST: !ex 5; [9, 8, 7, 5, 4] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 4; [2, 10, 2, 1] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (Maji's DDV is 4 after all modifies, 4 -2 +2, so they miss!)  
> ST: ((Lol.))  
> Inks: (Maji's Intimidation Roll (second page of the morale rules)  
> 

Again, metal collided with metal. Again, great claws shrieked over the tower shields and failed to knock their owners prone. But nor did the spears do any better; most missing him and a few skittering off his tough hide with only glancing blows at bad angles.

>   
> ST: ((Roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +1 "Intimidation cha 2, Pres 3, +3 Excellency, +2 stunt. And a WP"; [9, 3, 10, 3, 8, 5, 10, 9, 4, 2] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (So my goal is that all the Iblans check for valor as if maji is 8-[Their valor] on the threat level chart.... Not sure if that forces autofails, but it at least forces a roll)  
> Inks: !ex 11 "Martial arts, dex 2 MA 3 +3 Excellency +2 stunt"; [6, 4, 9, 5, 3, 7, 9, 1, 6, 7, 3] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((Haha, wow. That's a pretty damn powerful Charm.))  
> Inks: (Subtle Whisper?)  
> ST: ((Yeah. 8-[Valor].))  
> Inks: (That's not the Charm's effect)  
> ST: ((Successes, then.))  
> Inks: (I just rolled really good on the Intimidate roll, using Subtle Whisper to make it more like 'They're being stupidly scared by something they can't see')  
> Inks: (well, perceive... so arguably it'd be like Naruto Killing Intent?)  
> Inks: (Maji's attack did not break their parry, btw0  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> ST: ((Okay, well, they're Valour 4 - the bravest, most loyal guards the Iblan have, selected to face down a demon-consorting sun-witch. So... hoo.))  
> ST: ((They're gonna have to roll good.))  
> ST: !ex 4; [10, 3, 3, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((... so close.))  
> ST: ((Hmm. That said, I think the presence of their head of house still in the room is enough for them to SPEND WP to force down the fear, though they're still scared and that will shift their tactics - they're now much less likely to charge like Group R did.))  
> Inks: (Mostly I just want the -2 penalty)  
> Inks: (like, if they'd Botch, they'd break and run)  
> 

Were it only the tiger, they would have held with ease. Another strike unsuccessful? Another attack from those fearsome claws repelled? Yes, they might even have been encouraged by the way they were holding him back.

But that terrible roar... it almost breaks them. They hold, but only through discipline and training; huddling behind their shields, brave men nonetheless shaking in their gleaming plate. Maji scoffs contemptuously at their terror, and at their refusal to rout nonetheless before so grand a prince as he.

With the tactical space shifting, Inks moved onto strategy. She slid down against the back of the overturned table, even as the first ranging shots whipped over their heads. Her anima flared to life, shining bright against the burnished panels of the golden floor and pillars.

The air grew heavy and charged, like a sweltering summer's day before a thunderstorm. Light and energy gathered in fitful whorls of barely constrained Essence, casting eerie lights. Those archers at the far end of the hall felt the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders...

"Vahti, Pipera- get ready to move.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Inks Shaping Sorcery, Gathering of Essence Speed 6, acts again on tick 11, targeting the archer group at the far end of the hall.)  
> ST: ((Is she leaving Pipera out there, or dragging her into cover?))  
> Inks: (Pipera was always in cover behind the table)  
> Inks: (I tried to make that very clear that they were all huddled behind the table this entire thing)  
> Inks: (back last week, Inks and Pipera were standing side by side, she tugged Pipera forward, Maji appeared on the table then superman leaped to group L, Inks FoS'd the table and pulled Pipera down behind it. Vahti vaulted the table too)  
> Inks: (It's now Tick 6, btw, so Archers can Move, Aim, etc)  
> ST: ((Oh right, yes.))  
> ST: ((Cool. In that case...))  
> 

There are shouts from the end of the hall, yells - and a flurry of crossbow bolts smack into and just over the top of the table.

>   
> ST: ((We said the table was a 75% hard cover bonus, so that's +3 DV against ranged attacks.))  
> ST: (!ex 5; [4, 7, 5, 4, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.)  
> 

The great overturned table doesn't let a single one through, though, and Inks and Pipera are well-protected behind it. As she builds the power, she's afforded a view of the rear half of the room. And the fleeting Iblan elders and guards. She can see them put a little more distance between themselves and her group, hurrying around one of the great pillars that hold up the vaulted ceiling and...

... disappearing?

The guards stay clustered there. But the elders go out of sight behind the pillar and then... don't emerge. Are they hiding behind it? Or... Inks grins. Of course. An escape route. Probably down to some kind of panic room. Now, is that a feature just of that particular pillar? Or are there hidden doorways in some of the others?  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hahhaa, stairs in the pillars, nice)  
> Inks: (Very nice- are crossbows speed 5 or 6?)  
> ST: ((5))  
> Inks: (Tick 7: Group R, Vahti; Tick 8: ; Tick 9: ; Tick 10: Pipera; Tick 11: Group L, Inks, Maji, Group D; Tick 12: None)  
> Inks: (I'm guessing Group R is Defend Other/Guarding, since they're staying put by the pillar... Charm time for Vahti!)  
> ST: ((Indeed~))  
> ST: ((u haz a barrel of fiah))  
> ST: ((the fire pixies, who are technically your co-workers, are whispering in your ear))  
> ST: ((they are telling you to buuuuuuurn thiiiiiings~))  
> 

Drawing the last guttering embers from the burning flamedust and Inks's own charred dress, Vahti puts paid to her nature as an elemental of fire, drawing the elemental Essence to herself and setting her own silken cloak aflame! "Now we're in business!"

>   
> Inks: (Vahti sets her own bodyguard cloak on fire to get MOAR BARRELS)  
> Inks: (Also I discovered that Elementals have some innate powers as well just now)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((that is a very vahti thing to do, yes))  
> Inks: (She's not naked, (yet))  
> ST: ((IT IS A VERY VAHTI THING TO DO))  
> Inks: (So what's Group R doing, speed wise?)  
> Inks: (And this btw is why I love tick combat, you get all these moments to do great character beats)  
> ST: ((The three Iblan elders are sequestered in their staircase, so Group R is starting to advance - at a Move - back towards Inks & co. Link me the map again?))  
> ST: ((Yup, perfect. I was gonna say they were the next-but-one away on the right.))  
> ST: ((u anticipated me))  
> ST: ((Okay, whose action is it?))  
> Inks: (Tick 8 and 9 are empty. So just movement. Tick 10 is Pipera)  
> 

Pipera for her part held her tongue, realizing that Inks was casting and could not be interrupted. She eyed Vahti, wreathed in increasingly spectacular curtains of flame. "I'm not cut out for this kind of thing..."

>   
> Inks: (Pipera is Guarding. There's a likely chance she won't even draw her weapon this whole fight)  
> ST: ((She may, however, point out that the lefthand furthest pillar may have another doorway.))  
> ST: ((Which is less likely to have guards behind it than the ones at the sides of the room.))  
> Inks: (Indeed~)  
> Inks: (But no distractions during sorcery time)  
> ST: ((Fair enough.))  
> Inks: (that reminds me, I did get attacked, so that's 1 reflexive action (Apply DV), so Inks has to roll wits+occult at Diff 1)  
> Inks: !ex 5; [5, 10, 5, 5, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (Passed!)  
> Inks: (Alright, now we're on Tick 11. Group L, Inks, Maji, Group D, everybody gets to act simultaneously, but I'm pretty sure that I won't worry about Distraction since this is the Cast Action)  
> ST: ((Oh dear. Well, before the two groups act.))  
> ST: ((Is Inks giving any recall command to Maji?))  
> ST: ((Or, you know. Advance warning that she's about to blow up half the hall.))  
> Inks: (I'm targeting the archers, they're well out of range of him, lemme show you on the map)  
> Inks: (But having said that, you are right I should)  
> ST: ((In general, I find))  
> ST: ((Any plan that starts "I'm going to blow up that end of the building")  
> ST: ((Is one you should inform your allies about before you do it, as a courtesy. :P))  
> 

Snarling, Maji bared his teeth- even as his mistress gave him a mental nudge to brace himself. Lashing out with paw after paw, he beat down against the shields with raking burnished claws, scoring lines and gouges in the already dented plates, tearing free rivets with every blow!

>   
> Inks: (Maji is Flurring 3 claw swipes for +3d each, after this he's pretty much tapped out on motes.)  
> Inks: (Group L's defense?)  
> Inks: (and attack/respone?)  
> ST: ((They're hunkering behind their shields and Guarding - they're not risking another attack. PDV 6.))  
> Inks: !ex 9 "First attack"; [7, 3, 8, 3, 8, 3, 6, 10, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 8 "second attack"; [10, 3, 9, 8, 2, 10, 10, 1] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> Inks: (That hits by 3!)  
> Inks: (because Onslaught Penalty!)  
> Inks: (So str 7 + 3... 10 damage I think. Lethal soak on Guards?)  
> ST: ((10L/12B))  
> Inks: (So minimum damage, 3d)  
> Inks: !ex 3; [5, 1, 10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (1 lethal)  
> 

This time, the first attack knocked the shields out of position - and the second struck the men directly. Plate armour groaned under Maji's savage assault, and men cried out in pain as his claws proved superior to their armour.

>   
> Inks: !ex 7 "Attack 3"; [9, 5, 2, 4, 5, 5, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (Miss!)  
> Inks: (Alright, Inks and Group L act simultaneously... dis gonna be good)  
> Inks: (Group Archers, I meant)  
> 

Rising smoothly from cover, Inks let the last of her dress disintegrate around her, leaving her in litle more than a fetchingly tattered skirt slit high on both thighs. Her skin and tattoo was unmarred, and on her brow her caste mark shone bright gold, a great beacon of power.

She raised one hand, Fingers pointed forward like a child imitating a flamepiece. The building swell of Essence that filled the room seemed to strain under tension, and to the archers at the far end of the hall, Inks offered an apologetic wink before-  
  


>   
> Inks: (Casting Gathering of Essence, spending 12m for a 12d Enviro Bashing Damage hit that is natural soak only.   
> ST: ((Yow. Okay, roll it.))  
> Inks: (Their Natural Bashing Soak?)  
> Inks: (The spell itself has no attack or cast roll)  
> ST: ((Oh, right, yeah. Natural Bashing soak is 3.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; [4, 9, 1, 5, 4, 5, 4, 2, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> Inks: (wow!)  
> ST: ((Aaaand just roll 2 dice for me.))  
> Inks: !ex 2; [5, 4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Mmm _hmm_. Cool.))  
> Inks: (Okay, before I forget, even if that didn't inflict DAMAGE, it still triggered Knockdown)  
> 

The entire northern end of the hall explodes.

It's a strangely soft explosion. One might even be tempted to call it gentle, if not for the fact that it sends men flying in every direction and scorches the stone floor and walls. The miscast sunfire bakes skin, blinds vision and reverberates through bones, but for all its force it does no serious or lasting damage.

But a broken spell, no matter how gentled its impact, is never really safe. A botched essence release like this - no matter that its miscasting was deliberate - sends waves of random magical disturbances throughout its area of influence.

Every statue on the northern end of the hall screams as though struck in the heart. The crystal torches go into maddened flux - some flare, some dim. Some shatter. As shadows lurch stomach-churningly around the room, Inks can hear the Things in Corners skittering.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Huh. Interesting!)  
> ST: ((Gathering of Essence calls out that the effects are like shattering a spell with Countermagic.))  
> ST: ((:D))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> Inks: (works. Okay, so the archers roll a diff 2 sta/dex +ath/resist roll to stay upright)  
> Inks: (penalized by the circumstances or not)  
> ST: ((3+2-3 mobility-1 BRIGHT BURNING ARGH=1, lol))  
> ST: !ex 1; [10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((... I am _genuiunely impressed_ ))  
> Inks: (Damn, me too!)  
> Inks: (Now they ROLL VALOR (half serious))  
> Inks: (but they get to Attack if they like and all that  
> ST: ((No, yeah, they totally roll Valour after that)  
> ST: !ex 4; [2, 7, 8, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Ooooo. Fail!))  
> Inks: (So they're at -2 dice penalty until they roll again and succeed)  
> ST: ((Did Maji's terror effect hit everyone in the hall, out of interest?))  
> ST: ((Or just group L?))  
> Inks: (I had intended for it to hit everyone, but a strict RAW/RAI means Presence is single target, so he only hit group L at your decision)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Okay, so Group D is spending WP and ATTACKING!))  
> ST: ((With their whole 3 dice.))  
> Inks: (Inks's DDV is 5 after all modifiers)  
> 

Nonetheless, a few of the men stay standing - and though their aim is fouled by fear and sunspots, they loose their arrows at the exposed (in more way than one) beauty.

>   
> ST: !ex 3; [5, 7, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((sad harmonica noises))  
> Inks: (Ahh, I goofed- if Group R was guarding, they could ave acted again on any tick and Would act again on Tick 10, properly)  
> Inks: (So we can assume they Guarded Again for 1 tick andhten Really Acted on Tick 11?)  
> ST: ((Yeah. So now that one group is prone, another has been blown up and the third is - for the moment - out of reach and have expended their ranged options; declare what exit you're going to make a break for.))  
> Inks: (writan!)  
> 

"Inks!" Pipera reached up to grab the Solar by the wrist. "That way!?" She pointed at the opposite pillar to the Iblan's sanctuary, and the onrushing charge of guards with spears and flamepieces from the southern end.

To that, Inks nodded with a fierce grin, and whistled. "Maji! Let's go!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Pipera; Tick 11: Pipera(Guarding) Group L (Maji'd) Inks (Casted), Maji (Flurry), Group D (Exploded), Group R (Could still act next week); Tick 12: Pipera (Guarding)  
> Tick 13: Vahti; Tick 14: ; Tick 15: ; Tick 16: ; Tick 17: ; Inks, Maji; Tick 18:)  
> Inks: (So, we're on Tick 11, at your discretion, Group R that we both forgot (and had been herding the Iblan nobles) could have taken a proper Action)  
> Inks: (Pipera is guarding as well, as I assume she has no combat Charms worth speaking of)  
> ST: (so, yeah, Group R are advancing towards you - straight towards, since they haven't clued into your plan to break for the left-far pillar yet- and no, she does not)  
> Inks: (Should we have Group L test for knockdown from Maji's flurry? His raw damage was high enough plus HUGE)  
> ST: (I did, and they are knocked down - I noted it in the description)  
> Inks: (Gotcha, and Group D Archers failed their valor roll, so they're Scared at -2d, but not fleeing)  
> Inks: (Okay, cool, just wanted to make sure we knew what was up. So Tick 11, Group R is moving towards Inks and co- dash or move rate? And they can actually Act Act, including Attack or Flurry)  
> ST: ((Move rate - they're being cautious this time.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so if they're not attacking then they still can take a combat action, like aim/guard/ready weapon, etc)  
> Inks: (cause Move doesn't have a Tick speed, and I can't advance them without knowing the Speed of their Action)  
> ST: ((They are readying weapons - which is to say, reloading their flamepieces.))  
> Inks: (Hah! I love it!)  
> Inks: (Alright, thank you for indulging me re: getting the timing right)  
> ST: ((NP))  
> Inks: (So finishing up Tick 11, and then I have Pipera's action written already for Tick 12)  
> ST: ((Sure thing. Onward!))  
> Inks: (Say when tick 12)  
> ST: ((... when. Go for it.))  
> 

"Do you have a plan yet?" Pipera's grip on Inks's wrist was cold and iron-hard- strength of a Chosen. "Because I like working with you a lot better when you have a plan!"

With her eyes on the approaching Iblan piece-wilders, Inks nodded. "Working on it!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Tick 12: Pipera Guards again; Iblan R move 1 yard closer.)  
> Inks: (And now it's Vahti's turn, Tick 13!)  
> Inks: (Writans!)  
> 

Wreathed in flame, her cloak charing to cinders around her but not at all bothering the woman herself, Vahti raised her arms with a strident hiss. "You don't know who you're messing with!"

The flames around her body leaped forward, Unfurling into a many-ended tongue of flame that lashed out at the approaching guards. The gold floors softened under the suddenly intense heat, while Inks and Pipera could feel the Essence coursing through Vahti's body.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, Element [Fire] Control to create an Enviro-hazard, and then Vahti uses the innate elemental power of 'Elemental Expression' to make the hazard more awesome.)  
> Inks: (She's targeting Iblan R, as they're the closer threat, hazard stats.... )  
> ST: ((Okay, so that's a bonfire hazard. 4L/action, I believe.))  
> ST: ((Is she going to hold it until they're all dead?))  
> Inks: (Acutally Element Control doesn't make a Bonfire, though thank you for calling that out)  
> Inks: ((Okay, assuming she has 2 barrels of Fire, the base damage is 2L/Minute and Trauma 1L which means it inflicts... autolevels pretty sure... and she can spend X motes no limit to boost the damage rating, so let's say she buffs it by 3 motes, for 5lethal/minute)  
> Inks: (I'm fine mixing them up, it makes more sense for it to be a bonfire in some ways)  
> ST: ((Hmm. 5L/minute will do, I guess. Fair enough. What other actions are they taking? Like, are they going to actually Move for the pillar?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, everybody moves towards the not-iblan noble pillar. The important part is that it deals Autolevels)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Alright!))  
> Inks: (Oh yeah, it's Trauma 3, because 1+2 barrels worth of fire, so the Iblans have to roll sta+Resist 3 to not get burnt)  
> ST: ((Huh. They actually made it. 3 sux.))  
> ST: ((Okay, so...))  
> Inks: (That means I roll 5d damage dice)  
> ST: ((Bashing, yes. Go for it.))  
> ST: ((Oh wait, no.))  
> Inks: (because meeting the difficulty removes the L tag first, doubling it downgrades to lethal)  
> ST: ((Lethal dice, rather than levels.))  
> Inks: (yes!)  
> Inks: (But still SCARY!)  
> ST: ((Go for it.))  
> Inks: (Ooh yeah, 3 sux)  
> 

The sound of screams fill the air as the fire engulfs the men, and Inks smells sizzling meat. She, Vahti and Pipera make for the pillar to the left of the one the Iblans took, hoping upon hope that she's right about this room having two secret exits.

>   
> Inks: (Okay, Tick 14 and 15 seem to be empty, and tick 16 is when Inks, Maji, Group L and D both get to act again)  
> ST: ((Yup. However... hmm. Is Inks' group going to Dash?))  
> Inks: (Havent decided yet. IT's a steep penalty and my pools aren't great afterwords)  
> Inks: (Leaning towards 'no', but unlike all the iblan dudes, everybody here has at minimum 2 yard move rates)  
> Inks: (I was gonna actually remind us both-if you Dash, you can't even Parry, so HGD and such would not be allowed)  
> ST: ((Yes, but on the other hand, one group is prone, the other is /on fire/, and the last is directly behind you, the furthest away, and just got blown up.))  
> Inks: (...true)  
> 

"Maji!" Moving towards the pillar, Inks cast about for more ideas, details about the room now that she had some room to breathe. The pillar would provide more cover at least, and was near one of the unguarded guard entrances, she hoped-

Hearing his mistress's sub-textual command, Maji glowered at the guards before him, loathe to leave a foe unvanquished, but needs as must. He pulled back with a heavy tread before bounding after Inks and the others. "Maji! Move up front with Vahti." Inks put herself at the rear with Chronicle in a warding barrier. "Pipera in the middle!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Mo-Ahem. _Dashing_ , Inks/Pipera move 7 yards per tick, Maji can jump the 18 yards + move 2 more if you allow it again, otherwise Maji does dash 7 yards per tick as well. Vahti takes the lead for the moment.)  
> Inks: (Vahti technically won't get to act until Tick 19 I think,so she just 'moves' 4 yards and is the slowest)  
> Inks: (Ah, minor correction, group L and R both get to act in 16, we act on 17, I misread- my action stands, it just happens 'after' theirs)  
> Inks: (So if R wants to flamepiece us, they can try, but they're Burning... also heh, I forgot that by RAW they check or trauma on their acting tick)  
> Inks: (So techinically their 'Oh god I'm on fire' thing happened on Tick 16)  
> ST: ((okay, look))  
> Inks: (you doing okay?)  
> ST: ((these are not the smartest guards in House Iblan, because they were selected for determination and courage rather than brains))  
> ST: ((but they are still not dumb enough to try and fire flamepieces, which work from firedust, _while on fire_.))  
> Inks: (PFffff! Okay!)  
> Inks: (man I love this commentary. It's so much fun)  
> ST: ((there is dumb, and then there is _that_ dumb))  
> ST: ((Okay, let me just... hm hmm...))  
> ST: ((... so, uh))  
> ST: ((If, hypothetically, your pool for "get back up from prone" has been reduced by penalties to -1))  
> ST: ((can you even try?))  
> Inks: (Hmm...)  
> Inks: (50/50, because Exalted have their Minimum Die Rule, but I don't know if htat's supernatural-only)  
> ST: ((... I'm going to go with "no". So Group L are bravely lying prone and groaning.))  
> Inks: (Nope! Just checked page 124 of corebook. You have to have E2+ and a pool lower than Essence to qualify for Minimum Dice)  
> ST: ((Group D, however, are going to try and wing a few crossbow bolts over. With, uh... only 3 dice, now.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so Inks and Pipera have a DDV of like 2)  
> 

A few arrows came after them from the group of guards at the door - those to the left and right groaning on the ground and burning respectively.

>   
> ST: !ex 3  
> ST: ((argh))  
> ST: ((2 sux. Nyet.))  
> Inks: (Whew)  
> 

A few came close... but distance, a moving target and lingering sun-blindness were still too much of an obstacle to overcome.

>   
> ST: ((Okay! Perception+Craft roll to find, find, find the hidden door! Assuming there is one.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +4; [10, 5, 10, 4, 7, 3, 1, 7, 1, 5] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> 

There. The door. It leaps out at her - well-hidden to a mortal eye, but obvious to hers. The cunning line of the door - deliberately following the pattern of the golden carvings rather than being a straight line, the well-concealed hinges... Inks even picks out the latch. Danger and adrenaline have her mind whirring with even more brilliance than usual.

>   
> Inks: (Nice! So by my estimation it'd take us about 3 ticks to reach the door at Dashing Speed, Pipera and I that is. Vahti about 5 ticks, and Maji about 6)  
> Inks: (I think we can... safely end the combat section of this engagement? I mean, I've effectively mission-killed all the dudes)  
> ST: ((Indeed. Does... hmm. Okay, we can probably drop out of combat time now, because nobody else can reload in that time period and while Group D are going to give chase, they're too far away to stop you getting in. By all means, feel free to stunt smashing the door off with Chronicle.))  
> Inks: (Hahhah!)  
> ST: ((Look, I know about your sense of drama.))  
> 

With one mighty two-handed swing, Inks flung Chronicle into the door with a shout- the golden paneling not so much buckling as *exploding* away from the fine decor- revealing the door inside!

Revealed within is a spiral staircase of polished, smooth-cut stone, narrow and cramped enough for only one person at a time and so tight that the curve will make each of them all but invisible to the next as they descend. A handrail is carved into the outer wall of the staircase, but no more concession than that is given to safety. The air coming up smells old. Metallic. Tomb-like.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, what order are you going down in?))  
> ST: ((Stunt as you wish.))  
> Inks: (oh god we're going into the Iblan tombs where all those bound ancestor spirits are)  
> Inks: (Inks in front, Vahti at the back, Pipera and Maji in the middle.)  
> ST: ((Stunt yourself entering, then, and we can close the session as you d e s c e n d ~))  
> 

After a quick review of injuries (none, thank the heavens), Inks took a deep steadying breath and one last look at the now ruined Iblan sanctum. There were regrets, but not many. Before taking the lead, she took the time to not only repair the door behind her, but seal it shut- not like she couldn't break it down again if the had to. Taking her position at the front of the group, Inks's anima lit the darkness...

>   
> Inks: (Quick invocation of Crack Mending/CNNT to bar the door from pursuit)  
> ST: ((Hmm. No, I don't think CMT lets you accelerate that far. It's two steps - that would be hours to minutes and minutes to actions - repairing a shattered door is a job of days.))  
> ST: ((Of course, you could just blow up the stairs on your way down.))  
> Inks: (Alright, something to that effect- the point is 'delay pursuit')  
> Inks: (I'm fine with an adjustment come next session, and i'll make a note o fit in the postmortem  
> Inks: (session end?)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (I had a LOT of fun! This was great!)  
> ST: ((Hee))  
> ST: ((glad you enjoyed it))  
> Inks: (You did a lot of great stuff and we both learned a lot about combat, I'm sorry it took so long)  
> ST: ((and go Inks!))  
> ST: ((Thirty armed and armoured men!))  
> Inks: (indeed!)  
> ST: ((All downed, albeit not out, and she made her escape!))  
> Inks: (no injuries!)  
> Inks: (About the worst I have to deal with is anima exhaustion from a scene's worth of 4m flare)  
> ST: ((:D))  
> Inks: (XP?)  
> Inks: ((so that was 5 hours strenuous activity, Inks's Sta+Res is... 5, so she _just_ squeaked it by as far as her tolerances)  
> ST: ((indeed))  
> Inks: (Let me know what I'm getting for XP this session, if I am?)  
> 


	46. Session 46: The Shadowmines

Down they go; Inks and Pipera, Vahti and Maji. Down they go; Sun-chosen, dragon, firebird and tiger. Down they go.

Down into the depths.

The staircase is dark, narrow and cramped. The air is old and still; the musk of tombs lending scent to every breath. Their only light is what they bring with them.  
It's quiet and cold down here. The clamour and heat of battle is left far behind, and the chill of the deep underground nips and rakes its way across shoulders and down spines. Gradually, the chute they're walking down widens, until they can descend two abreast.

"The tombs of the Iblan House- of course they are..." Inks scanned the burial alcoves, the tokens and runes of ancestor worship. Her own castemark flared to life, bringing sunlight to the catacombs for the first time. She reached out and found Pipera's hand with one of her own, and then Vahti's with her other.

Maji makes a point of squeezing by them at the widest point to take the lead, along the way nudging the three women with his bulk in a reassuring, princely gesture. Inks's grin warmed, and she nodded. "Good boy."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa, Diff 4))  
> Inks: (per+Aware stunt, per 5, awa 2 +2 style, +1 style perk for seeing in darkness; I am Not Flaring for mote regen, this is just Castemark as torch)  
> Inks: (gonna spend 2m for 1 autosux as well, so 9d +1)  
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice.))  
> Inks: !ex 11 +1; Inks: [3, 1, 7, 10, 10, 9, 4, 8, 3, 4, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Pipera gives a grim nod at Inks bringing light to this ancient place that has never seen the sun. "Yes," she agrees. "Good idea. Flood this tomb with the sun's light. Burn out any ghosts that linger here."

"Yeah," Vahti agrees heatedly; still riled up from the fight. "Teach them to attack us!"

But Inks, leading the others by a step, is preoccupied. Because she's just reached a landing whose alcove boasts a casket not of stone or even of gold. No; her eye picks out the difference in the gleam under sunlight's touch with ease. This casket, and the deathmask it carries, is covered in a layer of pure tumbaga.

And as her foot comes down on the landing and her blood chills and her stomach turns, she knows with unmistakable certainty that it makes the border of a shadowland.

Tugging back on Vahti and Pipera, she stops them both before they cross the threshold. "Oh *lovely*." She let out a slow sigh. Looking around, she hoped there was another path, or it was only a single way forward...  
  


>   
> Inks: (So far my impression is that we're on a stairway that then lead into a more flat corridor or hallway with burial chambers/caskets?)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> Inks: (But no obvious way left or right, just forward into the shadowland, or backward into the iblan ancestor meeting hall)  
> 

  
  
Inks jerked her chin forward at the tumbaga casket. "About a foot thataway is the border of a Shadowland."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Yeah. Well, it spreads out a bit - there are passages left and right that she can see. But the step down from the stairs into the catacomb-complex is the border of the shadowland.))  
> Inks: (So all those left/rights are in the shadowland boundary, is all)  
> ST: ((Yah.))  
> 

  
  
"Boss?" Vahti asked. "What's wrong?"

"What time is it..." Inks looked skyward, somehow ignoring the intervening stone and earth to simply know the position of the sun... "Hmm..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunting int+occult about Shadowlands trivia, assuming that it still follows the time-of-day boundary rules for 2e.)  
> Inks: (Also spending 1m to know the position of the sun/time of day)  
> 

  
  
It's coming up to noon, Inks senses, when the shadowland is locked firmly in Creation - though from what she's studied, Inks guesses her true anima would force the shadowland into its daylight state anyway, should she unleash it. Of course, that would also bring true sunlight down here; burning away any ghost or grave good it fell upon and doing terrible damage. Even the weaker light she's radiating to see is unlikely to win her friends down here among the Dead.

Behind her on the stairs, Maji rumbles. He can sense it - Inks can feel his desire to turn back, to not set foot in this place of death. But back upwards is nothing but the Iblan halls and their guards.

Pipera, beside her, has gone pale and quiet. She's fingering the spot her holster of darts would usually reside, and as Inks watches her aspect markings flare; wave-froth flecking the crests of her blue hair and faint breezes swirling around her; cold even in this chilly underground catacomb.

"Pipera, can you listen in on people if you know when and where they're going to be speaking?"

"... yes, with some distance limitations," Pipera says. "Who?"

"Tatters. I'm going to send her a message first so she doesn't wage a one-woman war against House Iblan." She smirked. "I'd much rather wage a four-woman war, plus one best tiger..." She trailed off, thinking.

Pipera cocks her head and focuses for a moment. "... she's there," she says after a moment. "I can hear _something_ , so she's not behind wards or beyond my hearing. She's not speaking, though. I can hear a pen scratching; she might be writing something."

"Oh wow!" Inks blinked. "That's not at all what I was expecting!"

"Okay, let me send her a message first..."

"Tatters" she recites to Maji, shaping the spell along the words. "We need your help. We've been forced underground, and discovered a shadowland in the Iblan ancestor halls. "I would like you to wait where you are for a little longer, as Pipera can listen to you speak. If you know anything about these Iblan shadowlands or their inhabitants, please speak aloud so that Pipera may hear. She will likely relay more questions too.

"House Iblan may be sending their forces against my holdings as we speak, prepare accordingly."

Not sure what else to say, Inks nodded and let the spell finish, sending Maji away for the brief moments he'd need to relay her voice. To Pipera she nodded.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so objective is to prepare Tatters for remote conversation with Pipera, who can then start relaying to us Useful Shadowlands Information. I don't know how many rolls this will need, but I'll do whatever required.)  
> 

  
  
Pipera waits patiently as Maji roars and bounds up through the ceiling. Her expression doesn't change in the sunlight and the flickering light of her aspect markings as the seconds drag on.

Then she frowns.

"She's talking," she says, and Inks recalls that Pipera and Tatters are... not entirely comfortable with one another, around the subject of the Dead. "She knows this shadowland - she's spoken to the ghosts of House Iblan. An ancient..." she pauses, an expression of distaste flitting across her face. "An ancient psychopomp rules down here, she says. 'Grandmother Iblan'. She warns us to be careful of her power if we've turned the House Iblan against us, and not to start any hostilities. To avoid notice, and... something about the shadowlands being 'wrong'." She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure I wouldn't have guessed."

"Well... hrm. It's going to be hard to avoid notice." Inks groused... Sitting down on the edge of the steps, Inks hummed. "Anybody hungry?"

"Boss," Vahti says, half disbelieving and half annoyed. "You can't seriously be thinking of _staying here?_ There are guards just upstairs! Tonnes of them! Who can still move! And this is their big place for their old dead farts who they," she waves at the alcove on the landing and its small fortune in tumbaga, "cover in expensive crap and probably bury in diamonds! They're gonna come down here after us as soon as they can stand and reload!"

"Of course not, but I can _make food_ in like five seconds. And we might need it. Later I guess." She stood up, letting her anima flare through her soul more while the light upon her brow dimmed. "We have to go forward to get out-" She turned to Pipera. "Tell Tatters we're moving forward-

"And that for the moment, we're going to be _diplomatic_." She waved at her dimming castemark. "I can always shine brightly if I have to." She made a point to banish Chronicle, but everyone knew she could bring it out in the space of a heartbeat. "Any suggestions, alternatives?" Otherwise let's get going."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Going to sit about 1 minute at 2m/flare to top off, I'll take the 1d fatigue penalty for the next scenes, but after I get 3 hours rest/1 hour sleep, I will be fine. Moving forward into the shadowlands, Inks will not be sunlight flaring unless provoked.)  
> 

  
  
The little band moves forward, out off the stairwell and onto the landing. All of them react. Pipera pales further, and her aspect markings surge. Maji growls, his fur bristling. And Vahti...

Vahti gasps, and looks around wildly; shrinking in on herself. "What in the hells is _that?"_ she yelps. "Where's it coming from?"  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 8 "Per+Aware"; nks: [2, 7, 2, 4, 3, 1, 5, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (wow, Inks, way to stay on top of things)  
> 

  
  
Of course, Inks realizes. She knew what to expect. Maji felt it through her first. Pipera has more than enough experience of the Dead. But Vahti is young, and hasn't ever felt the clammy weight of a shadowland before. This is the first time she's been cut off from Creation's warmth and essence.

Reaching over, Inks pulled Vahti into a one-sided hug. Even her own warm body was of mild comfort. "It's a different realm- even when we're mostly in Creation, this is a place of Death. It's awful, but we have to keep going forward." She cast about now, that they'd crossed over the threshold.

"Okay, burial catacombs. If they were smart, they'd have to dig at least two tunnels, one for air and escape and one as the main entrance. Unclean air from the corpses, even embalmed ones, would..." She trailed off again, tracing the lines and archways throughout the tomb.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Craft to start divining a way out)  
> Inks: (I have to keep remembering that shadowlands aren't full of geography disruption like say the deep underworld or even the Labyrinth, they're fairly 1:1 to Creation)  
> ST: ((Int+Craft, Diff 2))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +2; Inks: [9, 6, 10, 9, 1, 8, 10, 8, 6, 4] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Given their location at the southern edge of the Throne tunnels, and if she's counting the number of turns right and still has her compass points in order... going further south, following the halls forward from the entrance, will take them towards the mines.

It would have been easier, when building this, to tap into and hijack some of the existing vents than to bore entirely new ones up through three levels of lava-tunnel and dwelling-ridden city underbelly, Inks judges.

And should the worst happen and they wind up moving by the rules of Underworld domains rather than Creation's cardinal directions... well, there are certainly shadowlands in the mines; she's heard about them. And there's no way they won't connect to this place. So heading for the mines is a good idea regardless, to then work their way back up.

Pointing the way, Inks nods and takes Vahti and Pipera's hands again. The only thing to do now is go forward.

These are the Iblan tombs, and here their richness is obvious. Glowstones in torches cones dot the sepulchers, and she plucks one to hand to Vahti to help light their way. Maji's fur is at a constant bristle, but for now Inks welcomed her familiars' vigilance.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So we're moving forward, I'm trying to think of something/somehow to start securing advantages again... .Hmm... Are any of the tombs decorated, or have like records and histories nearby?)  
> Inks: (we're passing by the rich tumbsaga one, for example)  
> ST: ((There are names and titles on all of them. She can't see anything more than that on most of the stone caskets, though every so often she finds a larger one with a carven figure and a deathmask and so on - like the tumbaga one.))  
> ST: ((Searching one might uncover more.))  
> ST: ((Or not.))  
> ST: ((Also, is Inks trying to go unnoticed?))  
> Inks: (She's trying to be inoffensive, so she let her castemark ease off, hence grabbing the glowstone torch)  
> Inks: (I can't hide, really, but I can at least be polite)  
> ST: ((Awww. I was looking forward to that Wits+Stealth roll. :V))  
> Inks: (But, ohohoho you're gonna like this)  
> ST: ((oho?))  
> 

  
  
Taking a moment to indulge her curiosity, Inks leaned over to examine one of the more ornate tombs, marveling at the workmanship of the deathmask and smiling in honest appreciation for the Iblan labors. "Someone must've cared about you, or were scared out of their minds..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Crafty Observation Method! I can examine a scene in 5 seconds instead of 5 minutes without disturbing the evidence!)  
> Inks: !ex 12 "per 5 invest 4 +3 style"; Inks: [2, 10, 6, 5, 2, 7, 7, 9, 5, 7, 8, 6] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> ST: ((Niiiiiice.))  
> 

  
  
This is an old grave. A very, very old grave. One of the first placed down here, if Inks is any judge. She doesn't think it's _the_ Iblan; the very first one who Rankar I sold the monopoly on gold mining to. But they're certainly from back when House Iblan was only just starting to become a Great House; taking its first few strides into nobility.

This may well be the body of one of the oldest and most powerful ghosts down here, if its occupant didn't pass on to Lethe. 'Iblan Diamond' reads the carven name, and the deathmask is that of an old woman, proud and stubborn. She reminds Inks a little of Bana.

"Hmmm... Maybe an ancestor." Inks wonders aloud. "Hmm...." Curiosity for the moment satisifed, Inks rejoined the others and together they carried on.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm having fun,but I'm not sure what to do yet either. Right now the only proactive option I can think of is cultivate allies among the Iblan ancestors or their ghostly rivals. And of course do so without alienating Pipera.)  
> ST: ((Well, you could also cause some hell down here, or just focus on getting through and back to Creation. Or take the risky option and try to find a quick exit into the mine shadowlands, which won't be under Dead Iblan's direct control - because the Iblan ghosts may not be pleased at what they see as an attack on their house, and the leaders may well have charms that let them know of such things.))  
> Inks: (hmm... raising hell down here could deprive Iblan of their ancestor ghost backup, but I'm not sure I could make a decisive impact either. I think I want to take the quick exit and push for the mines. Are there any rolls I need to make for that?)  
> ST: ((Navigation, whoo! Which, uh... I guess is Int+Occult?))  
> Inks: (or survival, which I could use Trackless Region Navigation for?)  
> ST: ((You're trying to navigate from one Underworld domain to another, which isn't a terrain or wilderness thing - it's knowing the rules of how Underworld domains link up. So no, Occult.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, just checking, occult it is!)  
> 

  
  
Taking a moment to re-ascertain her bearings, Inks stopped at another junction. The air was unnaturally still, but yet her hair still moved as if pulled by unseen fingers. The tomb was stiflingly dry, but her skin was still clammy.

Her education in the occult arts dealt more with the powers of Living Essence, but even so she knew the basics of the chthonic principles of the Underworld. "Blood, prayer, bone... I can never remember the rest!" She let the tomb swallow her defiant laugh.

"But all of that means..." She examined the floors, noting the tiny marks of scuttling carrion beetles that flowed in swarms like water, eroding the pavers with their little legs...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Occult stunt, value?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> ST: ((Also, no animals in shadowlands. They don't like staying there. Not even insects.))  
> Inks: (fair enough!)  
> Inks: !ex 11 +4; Inks: [2, 4, 3, 6, 10, 6, 2, 10, 9, 8, 10] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Down, Inks thinks. They need to go down. Through the floor if necessary, but if not... ah, yes, there are more subtle little staircases here and there. It's just a matter of picking one which goes down to the shadowlands located physically below them, and _not_ the ones that lead further down into the Underworld and brush up against the Rivers of Death.

That's a really important point; that one. Happily, Inks listens carefully at the first staircase they come to, and hears - far, far below - the rush of dust and gravel and rockfall-retorts that probably match to what Tatters, in her notes, had called the River of Crushed-In-Stone.

Not that way, Inks decides. It takes two more attempts before she finds one she's happy with - a staircase that isn't so much a carven spiral as a roughly-hewn passage that slopes sharply downwards, concealed behind a statue - and she ushers the others in as she hears voices and movement approaching from somewhere nearby in the catacombs.

Moving quickly, Inks and company don't quite vault down the stairs, and eventually Maji agrees to jump back into Ink's tattoo until they reach a more open space. Mindful of the rough steps, Inks takes them in bounding strides that has Pipera wrinkling her nose in dismay.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Smuggle for Maji, Graceful Crane for Inks)  
> ST: ((Mm hmm. Juuuust roll me 3 dice and 5 dice for Pipera and Vahti's balance as they keep up, would you? Diff 1.))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [8, 9, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [8, 10, 5, 6, 3] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

  
  
The four of them - or three of them, with Maji concealed - hurry down the rough corridor, feeling the atmosphere change. From the oppressive weight of silence and polished stone graves, they go to a feeling of cramped confinement and darkness eating at the edges of their vision. Even though Inks knows the passage is big enough for her, it _feels_ like she'll bang her elbows and head if she doesn't crouch and huddle in. Like she could be 

stuck if she moves wrong. Like the light of the glowstone she holds is such a very little, fragile thing, and the darkness outside it is thick and stifling and all but physical.

And there's another feeling, too.

The feeling that there's something out there. Something _vast_.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh dear~)  
> Inks: (Per+Occult/aware?)  
> ST: ((Heh. Sure, if you want.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [3, 8, 1, 2, 8, 1, 8, 8, 2] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (occult)  
> 

  
  
She can't put a name to the presence. She can't think of anything it might be - it feels too _big_ just to be some lurking ghost that she's sensing somehow. But Inks thinks back to Vahti, and how she'd looked around wildly as soon as she'd set foot in the Iblan halls. Is this what she'd sensed, even back then? And more... Pipera had dismissed it, but is _this_ what Tatters meant by something being 'wrong' with the shadowlands?  
  


>   
> Inks: (...hekatonchire?)  
> ST: ((:3))  
> ST: ((I mean, Tatters would probably have mentioned that if she knew there was one. Probably. And if.))  
> Inks: (sure)  
> 

  
  
"Be very... very careful." Inks warned. "Something's _here_. All around us." She glanced sidelong, trying to force the constraining stairway to push back into some semblance of order. "Where to now..."

"Back up, and as soon as possible," grits out Pipera. She's trembling very slightly. "And then-"

She stops. Vahti stops. Inks stops. Because there's a sound approaching them, off to the left of an intersection they're coming up on.

Tap.

Tap tap.

Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

The sounds echo along the cramped space; the south of fingers on stone; someone knocking their way blindly along in the dark.

Pointing right, Inks moved with Pipera and Vahti, giving the oncoming sound a wide berth. She dared not shush or raise her voice, not right now. Rolling her shoulder, she freed an arm up for Chronicle, but Pipera still clung vicegrip to her bicep. Inks felt her heart pounding in her chest, too loud, no way they couldn't hear it-

A face appeared at the edge of the glowstone's light. An eyeless face. In life he must have been a strong man, but now he's pale with the pallour of death. Dried skin covers hollowed sockets, and the side of his head has been caved in by a dent the size of a fist. His fingers are long - far, far too long; each spindly digit the length of his forearm again, and he taps them against the walls and and floor as he approaches.

They speak no word, they make no movement - and he certainly can't see the light. But somehow he still senses them as he comes into view, cocking his head even as his form takes on the blurry fuzziness of intangibility. Vahti breathes in slightly - and his face turns to her with uncanny accuracy.

Those long fingers search for the walls again, and drift through them. He retreats into the stifling blackness, and the tapping starts up again - accompanied by a voice.  
"Whooo... goes...?"

Before she speaks, Inks looks, wondering if she can tell if this ghost belongs to the halls of Iblan...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Awa, Diff 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [4, 4, 3, 1, 7, 5, 5, 10, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

  
  
She can't be sure, of course. The Iblan ghosts are no doubt powerful, and might control many others - even outside their house. But this specific ghost... no, she thinks. He's a commoner. A miner. The Iblans who are interred here are nobles, and he's definitely not that. This man died in a cave-in. If he's connected to the Iblans, it's only as an underling of the lowest rung - and even if that's true, he probably doesn't like them much.

"Travelers." Inks let out a quiet breath. "Passing through." She offered then- making a point to stand in front of Vahti and Pipera in case the ghost surged forward.

"Ahhh," comes the sigh from the darkness. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Timbers... sound? Yes. All sound. All strong. Where... going?"

"Out, to the mines, and the surface." Now that she has someone to speak to, Inks's prowess is coming back to the fore.

"Out..."

That seems to resonate with something in the ghost. "Yesss. Out. Get out. Have to... get out." Tap. Tap. Tap. "This... way."

Fingers clench around Inks' wrist. "You cannot," Pipera hisses in her ear, "be thinking of following it."

Inks offers her a waggling hand. "even odds either way." She allowed. "He's what's left of a man left for dead in the mines, groping in the dark and waiting to die." She pulled free of Pipera's hand then laced their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze.

Watching the miner retreat, she cocked her head, humming to herself... _What do you want?_  
  


>   
> ST: ((Charm use, or just a Read Motive roll?))  
> Inks: (Knowing the Soul's Price, Per+Invest Diff 1, minus man+soc /2 External Penalty  
> ST: ((Ho hum. -1, then.))  
> Inks: (bored with that?)  
> Inks: !ex 8 -1; Inks: [1, 8, 6, 5, 5, 6, 4, 7] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Whew, just squeaked it)  
> 

  
  
Inks judges the man before her, and...

... well, "what's left of a man" was the right way to put it, really. Her brilliant mind has evaluated living men and women and drawn all kinds of conclusions, but what she's reading here is just... _weird_. She can hear him still tap-tap-tapping at the walls as he shuffles away. It's all he cares about. Obsessively - to a degree far, far beyond any rational mind.

Brace the tunnels. Sound the timbers. Bracket the ceilings and keep the rocks from falling. In any mine; in every mine - that's what will keep a ghost like this loyal. That's what they care about, what they _crave_. It's not even about saving people, because she thinks he'd pull apart a living miner in an instant if it meant he could use their bones to repair a support.

To this dead man and his questing fingers, whose eyes have shriveled for lack of use down here in the dark, all that truly matters is the mine. He might help a group lost down here like he was to escape... but ultimately, all else is secondary to the structure.

"I know how to handle him, now." Inks declared. "So yes, we are going to follow, and yes, we are going to stay on our guard."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So yes we take our lead from mister Miner, at least for the moment)  
> 

  
  
Pipera is not happy about it. But the ghost's hearing is very, very sharp, and so despite her quivering, she doesn't protest out loud. They follow the tapping through cramped spaces hewn by pick and by chisel. Sometimes another tapper will pass them by, and the two will trade assurances - "timbers sound", "ceiling firm" - before continuing on in their never-ending vigil.

Always, there's the presence without. It fills the walls. It wells up from below. It crushes down on them from above. It's everywhere... and yet nowhere.  
And it's watching them. It's watching _Inks_. She can _feel_ the pressure of its attention; enormous and hollow and questing. Vahti whimpers every time the corridors close in and its unseen gaze intensifies.

Even as their miner guides them forward, Inks takes the time to verify their route. She was mindful of how their guide's priorities were likely less 'escape' and more his constant vigilant circuit of all the mine tunnels, so she carefully watched his behaviors for cues...

And yes, she concludes. They're making a circuit. But it seems to be a circuit that's bringing them slowly upwards, which is promising. There haven't been any _living_ miners yet, but she wouldn't be surprised if they avoided this shadow-mine. She would, after feeling the presence here.

The tapping-ghosts aren't the only ones who inhabit it, either. There are ghosts who wait for rescue; who call out to her and her comrades to ask if their friends have come to dig them out and rescue them. There are other things, too - things Inks recognized as yidaks. They're not as smart or as dangerous as the ones in El-Galabi, and they don't approach the light, but she still stays on-guard until they leave them far behind.

They walk for what might be an hour or might be a quarter of that - the oppressive feeling makes every second stretch. But the presence of the watching thing is starting to lessen, and Inks almost thinks she can hear voices - real, _human_ voices - up ahead... when everything goes wrong.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. The same sound, the same place again. Tap. A long, bony finger on a wooden support beam. It sounds the same to Inks as all the others. But evidently not to their guide.

"Rot," it whispers. Then louder. "Rot. _Rot!_ The beam is rotted!" She hears it casting about in the dark, looking for a replacement. And then she hears it stop. 

And turn.

And shriek, as it lunges.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh my!)  
> Inks: (Is this our guide lunging? )  
> ST: ((Indeed. Though, Inks - if she keeps her composure - may recall that it looked intangible when she got a look at it earlier, though it's preferred to stay in the dark ahead of them since then.))  
> ST: ((Of course, they are in a shadowland...))  
> Inks: (it was intangible in the light of the glowstone, I heard, and I can always flare up more sunlight if need be)  
> ST: ((... yeah, uh, upon checking just now, I actually forgot that ghosts are always material in shadowlands, because I am a fool.))  
> Inks: (You're fine either way, as long as we're consistent)  
> 

  
  
Inks could feel Maji bristle in her tattoo, eager to be let loose. Moving decisively, she slipped past the blind and grasping ghost before laying her hands upon the beam. There- yes it was rotten, somehow in some small way- but hers was supernatural touch. She felt the ghost grip hard on her arms, but she whispered. "Check the beam! What do you feel?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((I'll keep that, then, since it's RAW. So, uh... talk fast or act quickly, I guess? :P))  
> Inks: (Crack-Mending Technique!)  
> ST: ((Hmm... Dex+Dodge to slip past it. Opposed by its pool of 6.))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [4, 3, 5, 10, 6, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 5 +1; Inks: [10, 2, 2, 8, 8] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
It shrieks again, turning after her, long fingers seeking her bones. She's lucky, really, that her movement and her question distracted it from Pipera. But as she punctuates her demand with her own rap on the support, it hesitates. Its own obsession works against it, and it reaches out to tap the wooden joist.

Tap. Tap. Tap tap. It checks, and rechecks, and then checks the next one compulsively, and the one across the narrow tunnel, and then the ceiling.

"Sound," the ghost murmurs. "Beams are sound. Ceiling strong. Walls are fair... beams are solid. Yes. Yes. All good."

There's a moment's pause where Inks wonders if it might have forgotten they're even there. But then it turns back to them - to her - and nods. "This... way. Not... far now."

"Thank you." Glancing back at Pipera and Vahti, she offers them a wan, tense smile, but nods.

Pipera's expression is somewhere between "I told you so", "I'm going to kill you once we're out of here" and "it's a monster, kill it". Vahti is wide-eyed and shaken.  
But their guide leads them on, and it's no more than a minute or two before it stops. This time there's no shriek, or cry. Only a tap-tap-tap against the joists, reassuring itself, as it looks forward at something they can't see.

Inks steps past it... and _oh_.

Life floods in again. The darkness no longer hems her in like a black tide ready to swallow her tiny light. The looming presence no longer fixates on her every move. The walls no longer shrink in to confine her in a space barely large enough to fit her.

For the first few moments after stepping back into Creation, it's as if she's walked into heaven itself.  
  


>   
> ST: End session, 5xp + 1mxp.  
> Inks: (Sorcerous XP for Messenger or no?)  
> ST: ((Hmm... 1Sxp for that.))  
> Inks: (awesome, thanks)  
> ST: ((So, how was that? I think I fumbled a bit with the Iblan tombs, which were kind of boring, but I'm pretty happy with the shadow-mines.))  
> ST: ((Which I've been waiting to show off for a while.))  
> ST: ((:3))  
> Inks: (The shadow mines were great)  
> Inks: (I'd have done more with the macabre elements, like showing more of the structure being done with bones and such- to help convey how theminer ghosts show their mania)  
> ST: ((Ooo, yeah. Point.))  
> 

  
  



	47. Chapter 47: Aftermath

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Session 47))  
> ST: ((Is Inks going to try anything on the way out of the mines, like demanding to see Iblan Asenya or going to the Despot's Palace?))  
> Inks: (Hmm, good questions. Are we alone at the moment?)  
> Inks: (Just Vahti, Pipera, and Inks?)  
> ST: ((For the moment. There are miners' voices just up ahead.))  
> 

"Okay..." Inks hummed, crossing her arms over her chest and thinking. "Options, options." She mulled over her potential allies- she could not discount the Despot here, but she was at the same time loathe to get him involved. Granted if she did, presenting herself 'as is' would likely endear him to her plight.  
The question at the core was: How would Rankar react to Inks's ambitions, and Iblan's response?

>   
> Inks: (Two actions: Evidence-Discerning Method to roll int+invest against Rankar's Man+Soc/2 to negate penalties, then an int/per+soc roll to determine his actual reaction.)  
> Inks: (EDM: Int 5, Invest 4, +2 style, +1 stunt assuming, -1 fatigue penalty. Gonna spend 6m on 2nd excellency for +3 autosux as well)  
> Inks: !ex 11 +3; Inks: [1, 8, 9, 10, 1, 2, 4, 8, 7, 8, 2] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Man+Soc/2 = 3.5. -2 internal penalty to the Int+Soc roll.)  
> Inks: (External, actually, so Inks got 8 sux  
> ST: ((No, the penalty is to your Int+Soc roll to determine his reaction)  
> Inks: (or, clarify- do you mean -3 external penalty with an additional -2 internal?)  
> Inks: (Oh, got it, thanks)  
> Inks: (EDM only subtracts External Penalties; successes from my roll.   
> Inks: !ex 16 "Int 5 Soc 4 +9d 1st ex, -3d from combined internal penalties, +1 stunt."; Inks: [4, 6, 4, 9, 1, 1, 5, 9, 2, 2, 7, 8, 9, 4, 5, 2] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (Eh, not too awful)  
> 

Inks purses her lips in the darkness of the tunnel. Pipera's aspect markings have died down, and Vahti is murmuring comforting nonsense to her that the prickly aide is tolerating - in itself a sign of how shaken she must be. That's something Inks will probably need to deal with soon. But for now, Vahti handling it gives her time to think.

She has to admit, the situation doesn't look good. On the "pro" side, House Iblan were the first ones to make an attempt on her life, and did so after offering her hospitality in a blatant assassination attempt. She also didn't actually kill anyone in her escape, despite lethal force being used on her.

Unfortunately, those are the only "pros", and both of them are mired in she-said-he-said since the Iblans will no doubt accuse her of striking the first blow and aiming to kill; failing only through luck. Moreover, in a straight contest of which Rankar needs more... losing a sorceress will hurt him, but ripping House Iblan out by the roots would _topple_ him. His instinct will be to side with his powerbase.

Informing him of the brewing play for the throne that some members of House Iblan are considering might help on the latter score, but it'll be harder now; with the appearance of a naked excuse and attempt to frame an enemy. Still, it's got potential - and she still has the ace in the hole that is her knowledge of the raksha in the city.

And there's one more weapon in her arsenal. Rankar likes ogling her. Oh, he's a smart, paranoid, rational man - sex appeal alone won't sway him from ordering her executed. But he's spent enough time taking in her curves that the magic her mentor imbued into her tattoo has probably wormed its way into his head and built at least a little regard for her goals. It won't push him to do something suicidal to his position... but it might be enough to convince him to give her a chance to explain herself, even if the Iblan steal a march on her and get to him first.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice, very informative)  
> Inks: (Glad I took the time)  
> 

"Alright." She shook her head to clear it and quickly brought Pipera and Vahti up to speed on the current plan- get out of the mines and back to the townhouse. If and when she brings the Despot in, she's going to do it with all the evidence she can bring to bear... But step one was getting out. "Look sharp, ladies. Company's coming."  
With that, she moved towards the sound of voices, looking the picture of poise and grace despite her tattered state of dress.

It's probably a surprise to the dirty, tired slaves when the sounds of movement come from the direction of the the shadowmine they're reluctantly working near. She hears mutters and moans and the rattling of prayer beads as they get ready for whatever spectre approaches.

But that's nothing to the shock they get when the sounds resolve into a scantily-clad goddess, two lesser beauties walking in a near-embrace, and a giant tiger. Or at least, so Inks assumes from the dropped jaws and slack expressions. The men are bare from the waist up save for crude iron collars round their necks, wearing thin cloth leggings and sandals, filthy from a mixture of sweat and dust. Glowstones light the tunnels - low-quality ones that cast dirty reddish-yellow light along the tunnel and fill the walls with shadowy cracks and crevasses.

After several moments of stunned gawking, it becomes clear that none of the miners are going to take the initiative in conversation.

"Heya!" Inks grins, bright and sunny. "Glad to see a friendly face." She takes a moment, fairly confident that Iblan can't or won't follow her through the shadowmines. "Do you think you could tell us how to get out of the mines?"

After several seconds, a few hands numbly rise to point down the tunnel. "L-lifts are that way, lady," says one of them - probably the work boss, if Inks were to guess. She's pretty sure they're wondering if she's a hallucination from mine gas or something. Or possibly a ghost's phantasm conjured up to distract them, if the nervous looks of one or two smarter men are anything to judge by.

Sashaying forward, Inks gave the group a knowing smile, reaching out to brush a hand along the nearest miner's jaw. "Many thanks, honored miners." With that, she waved her hand, urging Vahti and Pipera forward, while Maji padded heavily behind.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Fun encounter! What's next?)  
> ST: ((Well, that depends on what you're planning to do and where you're planning to go.))  
> Inks: (Okay. Hmmm... I keep thinking I want to go back to the townhouse... But that's a very defensive strategem. Hmm... Low risk low reward)  
> 

Once onboard the lift, voices masked by the clanking and creak of ropes and gears, Inks tapped her foot. "Pipera- if we wanted to shore up our case against House Iblan to the Despot, what do you think?" She went on to enumerate the assets they already had- Tatter's investigations, the Raksha connection, their eye on the throne and so on.

>   
> Inks: (Asking Pipera if she has any ideas on how to stack the deck in our favor)  
> 

"I say go for it!" Vahti chirps. "Seriously, boss, if we get to him first we can at least tell him what actually happens before those old farts send a runner to spew all kinds of lies to frame us in the worst light. We were gonna take 'em down anyway and now they're out for our blood, so we should just drop everything we have on them. Us vs House Iblan isn't a game we can win in how important we are to the city, so we need to pick another board to fight them on. Right?"

Pipera is slower to respond. She barely looks up at Inks' question, and only glances over halfway through Vahti's babble. "I..." she starts, and shivers again as though the cold of the shadowland is lingering in her bones. Inks can hear the unspoken 'just want to go home' as if it were shouted.

But credit to Pipera; she pulls together a tattered cloak of professionalism and straightens. "House Iblan is rooted deep into the city's functions," she points out slowly. "Baring all to the Despot might topple them overnight... or it might not. They may well be _too big_ for him to simply get rid of them; he can't be seen acting so overtly against a Great House. Better to consolidate and work out a way to force this to be... forgotten. Blackmail them with their dirty laundry, maybe, or..."

She shakes her head, shivering again, and sinks back into haunted distraction rather than carry the thought any further.

A plan was half-forming in her mind, but right now, Inks was gripped not by pragmatism. Pipera was never one for physical contact, so Inks's immediate and unwelcome response would not have helped... "Pipera... look at me. Please."

When the other woman finally did meet Inks's eyes, she smiled. "I'm sorry. For everything that's happened here. For what's happened to you. That you have this _weight_ bearing down on you from something I can barely understand..."

The lift slowly clanked to a halt, but they were for the moment still alone. "But you are more than it. You're a Prince of the Earth, an _Exalt_... But more importantly than those things, you're _Pipera_. Someone I gladly want to call my friend. Someone I want to _be like_ sometimes. I know I can count on you, and when the time comes, I want you to know you can count on me. We can do this- all of us."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Cha+Presence stunt to bolster Pipera's morale.)  
> ST: ((3-dot stunt just for the sheer jaw-dropping shock of Inks saying she wants to be more like Pipera. :V))  
> ST: ((Roll it))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +3 "2 + 4 + comp 3, + stunt 3, +3sux from excellency"; Inks: [9, 4, 10, 1, 10, 4, 7, 4, 10, 9, 3, 2] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Pipera breathes deeply. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Then the cracks in her demeanour shrink, and she adopts more of the strictly controlled poise she normally wears. "Alright," she says, and if the tremors in her voice aren't entirely gone, they're at least down to a level Inks can only spot because she knows her so well. "Very well then. Where are we bound?"

"Still deciding- best case is we can arrange for everything we need to meet us at our final destination... We need proof. Ironclad proof that isn't tit-for-tat... I think we need that Raksha." She glanced at Pipera, wondering if she had another suggestion.

"Then we need someone who can be sure of defeating it should it prove powerful," Pipera sighs. "We can't count on Maji alone being enough. Which means either Tatters... or Piercing Sun."

"I think Tatters would _pout_ severely at me if we didn't include her." Inks observed.

"Just be sure she doesn't murder our evidence," Pipera retorts.

"We can kill it _after_ we present it as evidence." The upper levels were far easier to navigate, and more densely populated. The miners were less... skeptical of their presence, but gawked nonetheless. "Okay, we stop by the townhouse to gear up. Brief Piercing Sun as well if he's nearby. Collect tatters, and go a raksha hunting." 

"And what about the Iblan using that to go whine to the Despot?" Vahti points out. "You just know they'll be making out like we made an armed raid into Bana's bedroom if we give them a chance."

"Hmm... That is a good point. Let's talk somewhere less conspicuous though-"  
  


>   
> Inks: (we can assume we scenechange to somewhere less conspicious before continuing the convo? The answer for the record is 'maybe brief Rankar and then offer to capture the raksha as proof)  
> ST: ((Okay, so are you splitting up? Sending Pipera or Vahti to go talk to the Despot as a holding action until you can come through on the "we're getting evidence" part? Or sending him a Messenger, or swinging by the palace first? Answer OOC and I'll lead in to the next scene.))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Let's meet him in person, it sounds like the more Inksian thing to do. And half-naked sorceress points)  
> ST: ((Heh.))  
> 

* * *

The trip up from the highest level of mines is by lift - a rope and wood thing that bears great similarity to the one that - shudder - Hinna had used to access her private lab. Thankfully, this one is both bigger and better-built - enough even to handle Maji's weight - and after an indeterminable jerky ascent they come out on the southern edge of the Crown tunnels, not far from the stairs to the manor. And on the other side of the city ST: to the palace.

"Oh joy- we've got a long walk ahead of us..." Along the way she instructs Pipera to start sending messages to all of her managers and overseers- Raven, for one in the orphanage, as well as updating Piercing Sun in broad terms. Winding their way through the markets, Inks quickly scoops up a deal on a basic firewand and firedust for Vahti, and a hip-accenting belt for the flameduck. The elemental's eyes all but dance. "Boss, I love you!"

To that Inks just grinned. She trusted Pipera to know and ask for what she needed as well, but Inks made a point _not_ to change her outfit. Better to meet the despot in 'authentic' wear and tear.

Pipera sends a runner to the manor, who returns with her darts. She seems to take some comfort from having them at her hip. Beyond that, she stays quiet - not in the throes of a breakdown any longer, but with the events of the day still weighing on her. Her murmuring to Inks' various employees makes for a background hum as they proceed towards the palace, and Maji shifts to put her and Inks between himself and Vahti; guarding her alongside his sun-human.

Putting Pipera's little logistical problem on her to-do list, Inks gave Maji a warm and approving smile, her pride and joy at his protective streak shining clear in his mind while she felt his princely desire to protect his charges. "Best boy." Inks cooed. Together they pick their way through the streets and tunnels, heedless of the scene they draw until they reach Rankar's palace.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, hmm. Roll me... hmm. Let's go with Wits+War to coordinate your small group and get to the Despot asap, vs House Iblan doing the same thing. They have a pool of 6, but suffer a -2 external penalty for being thrown into chaos by your leaving and also having a lot more people to coordinate and secure.))  
> ST: ((Success dictates who gets to him first.))  
> Inks: !ex 4 +2; Inks: [3, 5, 9, 1] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: !ex 6 -2; ST: [10, 1, 6, 7, 2, 8] was rolled for 2 successes after modifiers.  
> 

There's no clamour or alarm in the palace, and while the guards do not look happy about Inks and her entourage showing up armed and with a giant tiger in tow, they don't level spears at her or demand her arrest.

Good. That means word probably hasn't reached the palace from House Iblan yet.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Rankar's pre-existing point about "not wanting the giant tiger allowed in his palace" stands, so Inks is going to need to either talk them into letting him through with some suitably shocking and dramatic emergency news, or convince Maji to stay behahaha yeah right.))  
> ST: ((Cha+Pres, Diff 4.))  
> 

"I wish to speak to the Despot." Planting her hands on her hips, Inks stood unflinching and poised. "I have just been in a fight for my life that greatly impacts the stability of Gem. I will not surrender my arms or guardian until I know this threat has passed."

>   
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks: [3, 2, 9, 9, 5, 7, 1, 4] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

They um and uh a bit as they decide whether or not to take her word for it when it goes against preexisting orders, but when she flashes her court sorceress badge the mutters mostly dry up and she's let through. One of them makes a token protest that Vahti and Pipera should at least surrender _their_ weapons, for which Vahti mocks him. "What, and my flamepiece is gonna do something _he_ can't?" she laughs, jabbing a thumb at Maji. "Just watch the gate for angry Iblan thugs, okay?"

It's early afternoon, not long after noon, and that means the Despot is taking lunch. He's on one of the upper floors of the palace, in a largeish dining room with an arched ceiling and a grand mural of a garda bird on the floor in a hundred shades of red and yellow-gold gemstone - rubies, garnets, citrines, amber and even glowstones to make its wings shine. A half-circle balcony a dozen yards across looks out onto the city, the doors thrown open wide to open the room to it, and the Despot dines at a redwood table just where the room meets the balcony; slaves with fans keeping him cool in the heat of midday.

Another day Inks would've appreciated the decor. Today she had business. "Despot. I would request some of your time."

Finishing a mouthful of tender chicken, he looks up at her. Dark eyes narrow as he takes in the state of her dress, the dust of the mines, the singed ends to her clothes. He gives Pipera and Vahti a similar once-over, raises an eyebrow at Maji, and looks back to Inks.

"Granted," he says. "This looks like it will prove interesting. Will it need privacy?"

"That would be ideal, yes." Inks agreed with a more customary smile.

A few flicks of his hand, and most of the slaves disperse. His personal guards, of course, remain; shifting positions to better cover him in the event of an attack. Once the room is as clear as it's going to get, he gestures at the table. "Sit, by all means," he offers. "Help yourself to some food. And tell me what is so important as to necessitate coming armed into my palace looking like you've just crawled through the mines."

"Well, point of fact- we _did_ crawl through the mines. It's a long, ugly story."

Taking a seat, with Pipera and Vahti at her sides and Maji settling down in a deceptively lazy sprawl, Inks went over the situation as she knew it. "I had, in my mind a minor issue with House Iblan, stemming from their control over gold and other precious metals. Mostly I wanted a fair deal from their house monopoly. At the same time they were also the source of numerous economic and political moves against my holdings."

She carried on, preferring not to defame House Iblan any more than necessary nor paint herself as more virtuous than they. Trying would've made her look insincere, considering she was all but topless in front of a man with known appetites.

She made mention of the evidence gathered against Iblan, wryly noting. "I'm sure it comes at no surprise to you that several members of House Iblan have their eye on your throne. _I_ have an eye on your throne, but I'd rather wait for your graceful retirement than hassle with intrigue."

The admission was casual and calculated, and Inks was confident in her delivery that he took it as she meant it. "But this comes to the actual important event- earlier today I was meeting with various Iblan councilors on their grounds, in the meeting halls of their ancestors. There, they took measure of me and my intention and decided it was better to kill me than to let me have my way with Gem."

"I don't actually _blame them_ for this, but the situation is going to go further out of control. My associates and I defended ourselves and escaped, making a point not to kill anyone I might add. We had to travel through the Shadowmines beneath Iblan's ancestor halls, and then out into the proper tunnels."

Leaning back, Inks took a moment to sip from a goblet of water, sighing softly. "Now I'm of course aware this all sounds as baseless accusation. Of my investigation into House Iblan, the one shred of proof I can provide is that one of their councilors has a Raksha paramour, who among other things eats the dreams of slaves and leaves them listless husks.

"So I hoped to ask you to hear the case, and to allow me and mine the time to produce this Raksha, or other proof of Iblan's... transgressions." With that, she let her hands rest in her lap, waiting.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, Cha/Man+Pres against his MDV 7. Two of his modifier Principles are balancing one another here, so his MDV is unaffected.))  
> ST: ((3 die stunt for excellent use of what you know of him and the deliberate portrayal choices on her part that you described.))  
> Inks: (Any App modifiers? Also activating Mastery of Small Manners for +1 app)  
> Inks: (Hmm. Does Sexy Stunner apply as well?)  
> ST: ((+3 App, yes.))  
> ST: ((Well, +2 App +1 scantily-clad))  
> ST: ((:V))  
> ST: ((And, hmm... yeah, Sexy Stunner applies))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +4 "cha 2d/pres 4d, style +3d, stunt +3d +1 style success, +3 2nd presence successes"; Inks: [1, 2, 6, 4, 8, 3, 7, 9, 8, 3, 6, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Inks has the privilege, as she finishes her recounting, of seeing something very unusual on the face of Rankar VII. Unabridged shock. Apparently, even to a man as cynical, paranoid and experienced as he; this is enough to break his composure. Even the guards shift uneasily.

"... I see," he says eventually, taking another slow bite of chicken. He seems to enjoy it less now, chewing distractedly as he stares at and through her; mind racing. A glance and a minor motion of his fingers has one of his guards move to the entrance of the room and trade quiet words with one of the slaves waiting outside, then return.  
"How long ago did this happen?" Rankar asks, after a moment's more thought. "Who among the Iblan did you meet with, and which councilor are you accusing of wyld-treachery?"

"Less than what, ten hours ago? Something like that..." Inks noted. "Iblan Bana, Iblan Omar, Iblan Virtuous Jade are who I met with. Iblan Ayla has the Raksha husband."

Rankar's nostrils flare slightly as he breathes in sharply. Something flickers in his expression that probably doesn't bode well for Ayla if and when Inks proves her case. "And the members with, as you say, an eye on my throne?" he asks.

"Ayla again, as well as Jad Raheem, and Iblan Rose Marble."

"Hmm."

A knock comes at the door before he can say anything more, and Celi steps in - taller than the tallest of men, a bright orange glow coming off her skin, darkened only by the occult tattoos that cover her shaven head. She takes in the group with a slow look as she sketches a short bow. "Sire."

Rankar nods at one of the guards. "Fill her in," he orders shortly, before returning his attention to Inks. Over the quiet murmuring of the guard explaining the situation to the ifrit sorceress, he folds his hands together on the table.

"I approve of you removing a chaos-creature from my city, if one is truly within Gem's walls," he says. "The question is how. The Iblan obviously pressed you. How much damage might a prince of chaos do?" He's clearly thinking of cost, and collateral damage. "What measures do you intend to take?"

"Iron, obviously." Inks starts. "Beyond that I could think of a few things..."

"I would brinng my Deyha on this hunt, it would be a good test for them. Piercing Sun as well, if he can free up time in his busy schedule."

Rankar closes his eyes, and Inks needs no special powers of perception to see the weary resignation at the thought of Piercing Sun fighting inside his city. to be fair; it's a thought that's probably given other city leaders nightmares in the past.

"Very well," he sighs. "But limit the collateral damage as much as possible. And Inks? If you come back _without_ a monstrous thing of chaos that House Iblan has been harbouring in the heart of the city, after a battle in their ancestral halls and launching an attack on the home of one of their councilors..."

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. That it won't lead to good things is clear.

Letting out a short laugh, Inks nodded. "Rankar, I _live here_. I don't want it broken anymore than you do. I think we're finished then, at your leave?"

He nods and stands; meal forgotten. "Go. And good hunting. Celi? Walk with me." He moves out onto the balcony with his personal sorceress at his side, Inks and company dismissed.

Inks let out a sputtering breath and tossed Vahti and Pipera both a wan smile. "Well, this is going to be fun!"

for once, Pipera and Vahti were in exact agreement, with the exact same lidded, flat stare. "No. No it's not."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, I know it makes for a short session, but do you mind ending there? I don't think I have the stamina to push through the Ayla-home stuff.))  
> Inks: (i was expecting this to be the cutoff)  
> Inks: (so we're good.)  
> Inks: Fun session! Once we gotout of the mines, things really started moving a lot more fluidly  
> ST: Cool. Then 3xp for a short session+2xp for excellent roleplaying +2mxp.  
> Inks: thanks!  
> Inks: i was pretty happy with Inks's speech to Pipera and Rankar  
> ST: It was good, yeah  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: And I know you enjoyed the opening. : P  
> Inks: heh. It's silly but I'm just pleased that I get to play around with nudity as a storytelling element as much as a sexy one  
> 


	48. Sesssion 48: To Iblan Ayla's Manor of Magical Delights

While she of course has a residence down in the Throne tunnels, Iblan Ayla spends most of her time in her villa on Second Scorpion, not far from the basket rides down from the caldera rim. It's on the eastern side of the city, closer to the desert, and nestled comfortably in the shadow of the peak. You can see the palace from it, though not - despite how wonderfully ironic it would have been - the balcony Rankar was eating lunch on.

Inks vaguely recognizes the place. She's not _been_ here before, but the foreign style of the villa's layout - more akin to the open-plan estates up in Ramabar Minah or Antefar - stood out during her work with House Bhalasus. This is one of the many buildings she'd designed cooling architecture for - and it had been an interesting break in the monotony, adapting her designs to something other than the same-y geomancy of Gem's blocky thick-walled buildings.

The structure of the villa is somewhat like an 'E', one long two-storey block parallel to the road with three wings stretching towards it. The sheltered alcoves between the wings are kept out of view of the road by high trellises; heavily burdened by an impenetrable layer of desert roses. Their perfume hangs in the still air, heavy enough to almost choke. The sound of a water feature comes from behind one - a rare an envied luxury in this hot and arid city.

But that's no surprise. Iblan Ayla is a council member of the richest House in the city - and the hand of their outreach for external trade. She is wealthy enough to buy almost anything she desires for her home residence - and there are many foreign luxuries she has brought home with her from up and down the Firepeak Pave.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, feel free to say who you brought with you, what people you didn't bring with you are doing instead, what kind of approach you're intending, etc.))  
> Inks: (... I think we vastly misinterpreted our intentions)  
> ST: ((?))  
> Inks: (uh... hrm. I had expected to go back to the townhouse, check in with Tatters, Piercing Sun, the Deyha... Uhmm... Hrm. I can work with this, but it really threw me off, give me a moment)  
> Inks: (Basically you've put me in front of a potential enemy's home base without giving me a chance to understand how much time/resources I have to prepare for the encounter.)  
> Inks: (as when I say 'investigate Iblan Ayla, I was thinking more forensic approach, examining trends and such)  
> ST: ((Okay, hang on a mo.))  
> Inks: (Like I said, I can work with this, but I'm thinking. This may in fact be better for the game)  
> ST: ((So, mm. I was assuming that you are, you know, eventually going to go there and grab the raksha. Yes?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, but I have no idea if the Raksha is even in Gem? I thought it leaves on hunting expeditions, to say nothing of it needing a freehold unless it has that voracious of an appentite- plus the whole you run Raksha as spirits, whereas I have read their book a few times)  
> ST: ((You can do a flashback scene where you, heh, go "two hours earlier" and show how you came to the point of launching this not-exactly-a-heist-I-guess-kind-of-a-kidnapping, perhaps?))  
> Inks: (No, no it's fine. I'm a firm believer in not wasting screen time on unnecessary detail.)  
> ST: ((As Tatters described it; nobody in Gem knows the difference between a slave dead of heatstroke and a dreameaten slave dead of heatstroke.))  
> Inks: (fair)  
> 

For an ad-hoc attempt at self-interested heroism, Inks was pretty happy overall with her plan so far. Even if Bana and the other councilors had put out word of their altercation, it would still take time for them to truly mobilize. And none of them would expect an 'attack' so soon.

Ushering Pipera off to the townhouse with instructions to extend her influence into Inks's various businesses and interests, to shore them up against inevitable legbreakers, Inks kept Vahti at her side and arranged for Nabijah and her Deyha to lean back in support. She'd instructed them with care to charge in if they saw either her flaring anima, or one of Vahti's tinted flamepiece loads- a signal flare.

For the moment though, the Dehya were the rock to Inks's hard place. Piercing Sun had proved to be a rough sell- glowering something fierce at the sun-girls' blinkered stupidity. She only had to speak a few words though. "There's a Raksha hiding in House Iblan."

Sun had grabbed her by the neck and dragged her outside, demanding details and almost preventing her from replacing her dress.

Now though, she stood in a simple if flatteringly snug thick buff jacket- enough to turn a blade or soften a blow. Maji huffed fitfully at her side.

With all that in mind, Inks turned her fierce intelligence to divining a plan, a strategy to solve this challenge or at least it's opening move.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+war? to determine best tactical and strategic approach)  
> Inks: (oh, I forgot ot mention tatters- I do explicitly want to bring her too)  
> Inks: (so we can assume she's Stealthed or similar in waiting to cover our approach, whatever form it takes)  
> ST: ((Note that Tatters and Piercing Sun may not play well together, especially in his reaction to her.))  
> Inks: (Hmm. Frustrating. This is kinda why I wanted that 'check in' scene to get this stuff out of the way if possible. what would I need to do to smooth things over, at least for the moment?)  
> ST: ((Oh, at the moment it's fine for her to be stealthed. Just, you know. She's some manner of Dead or Deathly Thing, as far as Inks can tell, and Piercing Sun is... well, Piercing Sun.))  
> Inks: (Okay so a Potential issue, works for now)  
> ST: ((He may not care about Immaculate "Anathema" nonsense, but an 'orrible Dead thing is an 'orrible Dead thing. And to Piercing Sun, the enemy of his enemy is only his enemy's enemy; nothing more.))  
> Inks: (Figured as much.)  
> ST: ((Anyway, roll Int+War to add dice to Piercing Sun's pool, or try to argue him into letting her take the lead.))  
> ST: ((Because he's going to be naturally disposed to taking over completely and treating her as a subordinate, which Inks' ego may not agree with. :V))  
> Inks: (indeed.)  
> 

"Alright, Sun-Girl, I want you to-" Piercing Sun was already moving, giving orders. In the absence of his Rangers, he defaulted to his normal behavior of assuming tactical and strategic superiority. Or maybe that was just a Dragonblooded thing.

"Okay-" Inks walked around to stand in front of Sun, to look him in the eye, stance firm and unbowed. "The Despot made it abundantly clear to me that he dislikes collateral damage. I don't think you 'like it' either, but you're not the type to let it get in the way."

"This however, is my mission, and my mess to clean up. I want your help, I want your advice, and I want to do this as cleanly as possible for everyone involved." She grinned then. "And if everything goes to hell we can blow it all up anyway- but let's save that as a later resort, okay?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Attempting to Convince Sun to follow Inks's lead).  
> ST: ((Roll Cha+Pres against MDV 6. 2-die stunt.))  
> Inks: (even if this is a 'failure', any moderation of Sun's methods is likely a long term benefit)  
> Inks: !ex 8 +3; Inks: [4, 8, 9, 3, 8, 2, 3, 10] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

The old man's eyebrows rose. Without moving or overtly changing his stance, he seemed suddenly to loom. Despite Inks having a few inches on him, it felt like he was looking down on her - like it was one of the many times during her tutelage under 'Nanda as a mortal when she'd said something she hadn't fully thought through, and the dragon had simply looked at her and waited for her to realize her mistake.

Like Piercing Sun was waiting now. Waiting for her to regret interrupting him. Waiting for her to back down or capitulate. Waiting to see if her nerve would fail her.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Gonna guess a conviction roll?)  
> Inks: !ex 5; Inks: [1, 7, 4, 7, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: ((Conviction or Valor, yes.))  
> 

Inks stood her ground, chin tilting stubbornly. And - as she'd guessed - Piercing Sun rewarded her with a wolfish grin.

"Hah," he said. "Alright, girlie. Have it your way. But let's make this more interesting, shall we? Old as I am; I won't be around to hold your hand forever. So, you have your hyenas, your flame duck, your great beast and whatever friend's lurking around that you think I don't know about. Let's see how much you've learned of war from my lessons. Call it a graduation exam."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I'll be waiting outside with my rangers. We can come in at any time. I'll keep an ear on you while you're in there, so all you need to do for your reinforcements is call out... and beg us to come _rescue_ you."  
  


>   
> Inks: (... I'm gonna count this as War Training, cause hahahah I only have war 2)  
> ST: ((Yeah, sure.))  
> Inks: (Not that I can raise it Right Now, but just in general)  
> 

Nodding, Inks quickly sketches out a plan with a finger on a nearby dusty bit of wall. "Here's the building, and the main entrances... Wait a second."

>   
> Inks: (You clever clever ST!)  
> ST: ((Is he being a sufficiently hilarious old _bastard_ for you? :V))  
> ST: (("You can bring in reinforcements at any time. All you have to do is cry out like a damsel in distress and beg the heroes to come rescue your helpless ass."))  
> Inks: (yes he is, but that's not what I'm complimenting)  
> ST: ((Oh? What is?))  
> 

Casting back months, over a year into her memory, she glanced around the corner at the estate- the structure and it's geomantic layout. There _had_ to be a clue as to where Ayla's beau might've practiced is depredations... She knew the floorplan, and sketched it out along the way.

"Okay, I'm thinking this Raksha has to be _here_ \- she pushed a thumb into a particular square on her scratched out diagram. Even if he's not, there's likely going to be evidence there... She evaluated how far away the target was from the entrance..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, per/int+CRAFT first, and then war!)  
> ST: ((Hahaa, usin' that stunt fodder, eh?))  
> Inks: (yep)  
> Inks: (so 20d + stunt for per+craft, 14d + stunt for int+war, no bonus for piercing sun though I bet?)  
> Inks: (waiting for stunt values)  
> ST: ((Diff 3 roll for the Int+Craft, then gimme an Int+War roll at -5 external penalty for having no idea what kind of powers or setup you're going up against. Successes on the Per+Craft can mitigate 2 of those external penalties by giving you a good guess at the layout and suchlike. 2-dot stunts apiece, and yeah, Piercing Sun is just watching. Possibly with a clipboard and a red pen. :P))  
> Inks: !ex 22; Inks: [8, 1, 10, 10, 1, 10, 4, 4, 3, 9, 3, 1, 4, 6, 8, 6, 5, 6, 1, 4, 2, 4] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 16 -3; Inks: [8, 8, 10, 9, 2, 1, 4, 10, 9, 3, 6, 3, 6, 3, 7, 2] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (oh yeah, that was a great roll, worth the motes)  
> ST: ((Niiiiiice.))  
> 

Inks' finger stabs down at what has to be the master bedroom, on the top floor of the middle wing. There are staircases on either side of it, and entrances on the inner walls of the garden alcoves - entering through one of them would put them right next to the way up.

The structure isn't actually two storeys; it's four, she remembers - there are two levels of cellars underneath the surface building. Much of what they house are things like servant's lodgings, but the lower cellars are probably fortifiable, and it might try to flee there if it escaped. Luckily, a quick comparison with her mental map of the city told Inks that they were in the wrong place for there to be an easy route down into the Crown tunnels from the cellars. Escape wouldn't be happening beneath the ground, and Piercing Sun had the place thoroughly ringed up top.

The issue she was now facing was what resistance they might face. Tatters hadn't been able to tell her much, besides that the chaos-thing was unnaturally beautiful. It might be a gorgeous warrior-noble, or perhaps more of a corruptive beguiler. On the balance of things, though, it was probably best to plan for the risk of the slaves and staff being potential threats that might turn against them.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Flagging for the postmortem- this is where the solar war messaging charm would come in handy, even if Wind Carried Words is strictly superior).  
> Inks: (so I could have sent a message to tatters and all that)  
> Inks: (anyway, thinking/typing!)  
> 

Calling Nabijah over, Inks quickly went over the basic plan. "Nabijah- you and your girls are going to cover this entrance while Maji, Vahti and I cover the other- " She pointed at the two stairways going up. "Once we're upstairs, you follow up behind."

"Think of it like a really classy smash and grab- you don't kill anyone who doesn't take a swing at you first, but if you knock em down, that's fine by me. Once we're in the master bedroom, I want you to keep everyone else out."

At Nabijah's expectant, eager look, Inks grinned. "I won't stop you from a bit of looting, just stay on mission, if you aren't there to protect your pack or me, I will make you live to regret it."  
  


>   
> Inks: (The general approach is going to be fairly aggressive, probably even having Inks and co ride on the Deyha if they're willing to make up the distance fast)  
> Inks: (So we rush for the stairs, Inks and her team go up first, Nabijah and co follow, guarding our flank)  
> 

Nabijah snorted acceptance and cracked her knuckles. "This fae we're here for. You want it alive, yeah? Does that mean uninjured?"

"As long as it doesn't die before we show it to Rankar, I'm happy."

The deyha bared her teeth in a nasty-looking grin, and nodded to her girls. "Good hunt, then."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Just to add; the trellises that block the garden off from the road are slightly out from the walls of the wings - so kind of like -___-. That'll slow Inks & co down for a moment as they enter the gardens (and force them to go single file, unless she wants to hack her way through a wooden wall crawling with desert roses instead of going through the opening single-file.))  
> ST: ((It'll also conveniently give me a chance to describe what the inside of the place looks like. :P))  
> Inks: (I admit I had this silly idea of casting Flight of the Brilliant Raptor over the estate just to cow the inhabitants)  
> Inks: (like explicitly above it in airburst)  
> Inks: (Are there any sentries or watchers at the windows?)  
> ST: ((Not that Inks can see.))  
> 

"Alright- let's move. Fast and quiet." Leaving Sun and his ever-judging stare behind, Inks , Maji and Vahti moved out. Slower than the Dehya, they approached from the outside of the grounds at a brisk march while the hyenas almost leisurely bounded ahead.

Nabijah was however a clever girl, and stopped at the trelises long enough to wait for the others, and on either side of the center wing, the two forces peeked past the treils, one by one...

The garden was about the size Inks' baths took up in total at the manor. The one Inks had chosen for her entrance was the one with the water feature, and it sat in the centre of the space; a small pool with a graceful curve of rock sculpted in the shape of a bent reed coming up from one side. A thin stream of water trickled from the tip, filling the garden with the gentle splashing sound - no doubt powered by manual labour somewhere below.

The pool itself was lit by sunbeams, but the rest of the garden was shaded by the wealth of verdant greenery that was planted there. Exotic trees - palms of some sort - formed a thick canopy that trapped the heady scent of desert roses, ripe pomegranates, southern cucumbers and more. Flowers in more shades than should be possible blanketed the ground, along with soft fountain grass that tickled the shins.

Across from the onlookers, in the far corner of the garden, the end of a hammock was strung from a tree; its contents obscured by an ornamental bush. A slave with a lap harp knelt beside the knot, serenading either the hammock's occupant or the garden at large.

Suspicious, Inks wondered if the garden was a hint of thaumaturgy, or maybe something more sinister. She couldn't see Nabijah now, blocked by the intervening building, but she bade Vahti and Maji to move quietly while she strained her senses.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Whatcha lookin' for/at? Nabijah, or the garden?))  
> Inks: (Unseen Senses, flurry of misc action, and then I think I still roll per+aware to detect Essence Flavor? Of the garden and hammock user)  
> ST: ((Cool, roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +1 "Per+Occult, actually, +1 sux"; Inks: [8, 7, 9, 4, 3, 5] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Performing the slight mental twist of concentration that laid the chasm of the material bare to her eyes, Inks relaxed a little. There was nothing lurking unseen in the garden waiting to spring on them, and the slave was only a slave; far weaker than the blinding intensity of the sunlight within herself. The garden itself was nothing against the baking golden heat of the heavens she bore, either... but there was something to it that she didn't recognize.

Plucking a petal from the rose trellis, Inks rolled it between her fingers and smelled it again. While roses could be bred in every colour, and there was a Wood Aspect somewhere around Gem who could probably make Ayla custom plants to order, this shimmering yellow hue was still... unnatural. She couldn't be sure, of course, but she guessed there was a good chance these were wyld-flowers; contaminated by the taint of chaos that the fae had brought with him to this house - or perhaps even sourced from wherever Ayla had met him.

They smelled amazing, though. Sweet and rich and intoxicating. Surely there was nothing to equal this beauty in all Creation - and if they were sourced from outside it; so what?  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks is under a subtle Illusion effect. She can reflexively resist for 1wp, not notice it at all, or with a suitable roll and stunt become aware of it but tolerate its presence.))  
> 

She frowned, both fascinated and put off by the cloying, inviting nature of the petal. It was eerily something in line with her beliefs. Some part of her *did* like the rose, no matter the source... but it was too insistent to be a true part of her character.

>   
> ST: ((Are you resisting or noticing?))  
> Inks: (noticing)  
> ST: ((Roll Wits+Integrity. Diff 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 7; Inks: [10, 9, 2, 8, 4, 8, 2] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((2 die stunt))  
> Inks: !ex 1; Inks: [3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

Definitely a chaos-tainted plant, Inks decided. Something in the perfume was putting out the idea that they were gorgeous beyond compare. Apparently the creature they were here to capture was a vain one.

"Boss," Vahti whispered. "I think there's someone in the hammock. Might be the thing in charge here. Should we sneak up and grab him?"

"Our sneak isn't that great, Vahti." Inks huffed back, but she nodded. "Maji?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (How far away is the hammock? Inks's baths are like 10 yards across?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, something like that. Though if the occupant is asleep, you're not going to need much sneak, so it's the slave that's the question - and she seems focused on the harp. :P))  
> Inks: (Fine fine, I'll roll dex+stealth for Inks and Maji)  
> Inks: (It took nearly 20 sessions)  
> Inks: (Calling it now, Stealth is Inks's kerisian meme equivalent to Travel)  
> ST: ((Lol. Diff 1.))  
> 

Sighing, Inks followed Maji's lead as he somehow managed to hunker down into the garden- his bronze paws making no sound in the soft loam, and the calf-high grass actually working with him well enough. Inks, fortunately, was wearing her buff jacket, so no riot of tatoo color was apparent.

>   
> Inks: !ex 9 "Maji: Dex 1 Stealth 4 + 3 1st Dex"; Inks: [3, 8, 6, 9, 4, 4, 10, 2, 10] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 3 +1 "Inks: Willpower."; Inks: [2, 10, 2] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> 

The great tiger didn't make a sound as he padded through the soft desert grass, but Inks could feel the unhappy rumble caught up in his chest and wanting to get out. He didn't like this place, or the sickly-sweet scent of the lush desert oasis that had been grown here. It was only because Inks had strong feelings on the matter that he didn't bound forward and bite through the figure occupying the hammock as they came around the bush and brought him into view.

He wasn't beautiful. 'Beautiful' was a word for men, and this luminescent being could not even be _thought_ of in the same terms as those crude, lumbering creatures. It was hard to pin down any specific aspect of his beauty - perhaps there was a muscled chest? Lithe limbs that glimmered as if with a faint sheen of oil? Certainly his lips were like rose petals, but was his mouth full and inviting or straight and firm?

He lay in a relaxed posture in the hammock, his hands behind his head and his captivating eyes closed, smiling faintly as he listened to the music.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Awe _7_.))  
> Inks: (daaaang)  
> ST: ((Also, Inks is now feeling faintly disgusted by the mere thought of human men in comparison to what's in front of her.))  
> Inks: (also sparklepire tropes)  
> ST: ((It turns out that when you push a raksha up to Appearance 7, actual specific features sort of break down into a blur of impossibly attractive quantum uncertainty that leaves you feeling disgusted at the mere thought of human beauty, so crude and imperfect and revolting. :P))  
> 

At Inks's mental command, the only warning the reclining beauty had, was the hot gust of air from Maji's jaws yawning open to clamp down on his calf.

>   
> Inks: (Maji Clinch!)  
> 

With a gasp - and godsdammit, even _that_ provoked a bolt of heat that went straight between Inks' legs - he awoke and stared at her. The slave, surprisingly, kept playing; her head down and her shoulders huddled in around her harp. There were roses threaded in her long, curly hair, and Inks could see bruises under the diaphanous dress she wore. The man had on only a loincloth - she thought - but the slavegirl was barely wearing any more than that.

"Who are you?" the beautiful fae asked in a tone that hit every note from light and melodic to deep and firm... but which nonetheless held a note of panic, and of resignation. "Are you more of _her_ friends, come to laugh at me?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (he's surprisingly blase about having a tiger's teeth clamped around his leg)  
> ST: ((I assumed from "clinch" that Maji's gripping but not doing damage?))  
> Inks: (He's not, but it still seemed curious! I'm rolling with it.)  
> ST: ((Then yes. A little panicky, but also just resigned-sounding.))  
> 

"Can't say that I am." Inks shot back. "Do you mean Ayla's friends?"

>   
> Inks: (Judge's Ear)  
> 

His eyes widened slowly. "You aren't, are you? She is cruel - heartless and ambitious. You must help me flee this place - please!"

>   
> ST: ((NOT LIE on what he said about Ayla.))  
> Inks: (the plot thickens)  
> 

"Vahti!" Inks called out, waving the elemental over. "Take her." She pointed to the slave. To the Fae, Inks nodded. "I can take you somewhere we can take care of you..." She thought for a moment, of how to do this...

Raksha were notorious tricksters, and even then she was dead certain this one was no useless fop. She thought back to the stories of Firewander, of tradesmen and more advising their fellows of how to deal with the fae lords of the streets.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I don't know if Inks knows how to deal with Raksha explicitly yet, but I have int 5 Occult 4 to throw at the problem)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll me Int+Occult at Diff 5 for her to remember some general knowledge and possibly-useful things.))  
> Inks: !ex 9 +4; Inks: [9, 10, 4, 7, 10, 6, 7, 6, 4] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> 

'Nanda had spent some time going over their local zone of pollution, back in Nexus. That's what she'd described it as. Chaos wasn't a _thing_ in and of itself so much as a contamination. Something that tainted what existed, twisting them away from reality. The Wyld was like ink, staining the landscape and features and beings of Creation and warping them away from what was right. Many of what people thought of as the fae - perhaps even most, since the end of the Shogunate when the Wyld had drowned so many lands - had once been animals or humans. Those that hadn't were things that had come into being where the taint was strongest, or servitors created by the same.

There were some consistent rules. Some things the Wyld could not abide - iron, gold, silver; the unfiltered light of sun and moon. Oaths sworn by creatures of chaos often had the power to bind them - and more so if they were sworn on their name to one who knew it. When the laws of reality broke down, ideas lingered, and so many things tainted by chaos became caricatures of themselves; stories without depth or nuance. Knowing what story a place or thing was telling could give a person power over it as well, or at the very least arm them against what it could do.

And, of course, they fed on souls. Stranded in Creation, the pollution would fade away, and if a thing had become so saturated with it as to have nothing else left, it would die in the process. Outside of wyld zones, fae fed on souls to fuel the chaos that made them up, hollowing out the hearts and minds of humans and leaving them empty hollow shells - or else glutted themselves on crystallized chaos in the form of wyldstones and other such tokens of the wyld places. Nanda had said some of them could learn to consume lesser magics like thaumaturgy when prey was scarce and no chaos-fuel was to be found, though that gift was by no means universal. The only constant was that outside the pollution they came from, raksha consumed and destroyed to live - and strong ones would taint things around them in turn.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice, lots of useful stuff)  
> ST: ((So, basically, because Pure Chaos is boring, the Wyld is all chaos- _tainted_ stuff. It's a bit like radiation, if something being radioactive meant that it was only loosely bound by the laws of physics and was also prone to eating bits of your psyche.))  
> Inks: (makes sense)  
> ST: ((Wyld Zone depths are still a thing, basically describing how tainted stuff is. And yeah, a lot of raksha used to be people or animals, who lost too much of themselves to the Wyld and became its creatures.))  
> Inks: (I mean, by definition the Wyld is anything that is 'Somewhat Creation-y', and Deep Chaos is the stuff past that where Unshaped live, or where you go for cheap and easy WST- but sure, going with this)  
> 

Inks's mind was a whirl with ideas, a plan forming in her mind even as she bade Maji to let go of the Raksha for now. Her tiger sulked, but obeyed nonetheless, and the Raksha seemed to ignore it.

"I had heard a fair and great prince had been bound here." Inks breathed. She didn't have to wholly act out the flush of arousal either. "Kept as an amusing distraction for a petty woman and her shameless harpies." Laying it on thick, she continued in that vein- leaning into Ayla's 'reputation' as a cruel and despicable mistress.

"But while I am no desert princess, I felt it was my glorious quest to rescue you- not even knowing your name." She smiled, sun bright and earnest. "Please, my prince- tell me your name so I can speak of you softly..."

Inwardly, she cringed, wincing at all of the most awful and loathesome romantic tripe that tumbled past her lips. "I can free you from this place, only if you swear to be mine and mine alone."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Cha/Man+Presence, a bit of Sexy Stunner Style if applicable, attempting to convince him to speak his name/swear to her)  
> ST: ((Heh. 3-dot stunt. MDV 5.))  
> Inks: !ex 18 "I am tracking motes, btw, running real low"; Inks: [7, 1, 4, 8, 4, 9, 7, 9, 4, 10, 9, 6, 2, 9, 2, 4, 2, 7] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> 

He reaches out to touch her cheek, and she can't quite help but shiver. "Yes," he breathes; the scent of perfumed flowers and thirst-slaking desert fruits delivered to her hindbrain like a mallet. "Yes, I will tell you. She has it. My name. She _took_ it from me and used it to bind me here! My heart... my beautiful heart. It's in the cellars, bound behind iron... will you rescue it for me? Deliver it to me, please, and I shall give it to you freely. And then you can be mine, and I can be yours."

It does sound like Ayla, Inks thinks. That grasping, greedy, ambitious bitch. She must have seen this gorgeous being on one of her travels and tricked his name out of him, wanting a husband of unsurpassed beauty who could never leave or betray her. He probably just wants to go home - but with a heart locked behind iron, trapped in the heart of Gem, how could he? Just stepping outside the villa would risk getting him killed!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's Ear on... "took it from me." and "In the cellars.")  
> ST: ((LIE. LIE.))  
> 

"Oh... You poor, mistreated thing..." Inks stood up, steadying herself with the hammock edge while her free hand brushed along one flawless pectoral- even his skin was pure sex. She sent mental word to Maji, and she felt the tiger's paws flex with anticipation...

With one hand drawing lazy circles on his sublime skin- sparkles followed in the trail of her fingertips- she let her other hand dance up to the dense weave of cords holding the hammock up. "So put upon, beleaguered... Debauched and manipulated... Truly you are a _wretch!_ "

Her honeyed tone turned ugly, and she snapped her fingers, Chronicle fell out of the side space and through the hammock rope, sending the fae tumbling to the ground!  
And there Maji was waiting, wiht a heavy paw to press down on the creature's chest.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Wits+Integrity, incidentally. Diff 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [9, 1, 3, 6, 9, 10] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

The raksha falls with a yelp, and Maji pins him. But Inks is frowning. The slave girl _still_ hasn't stopped playing. She hasn't reacted to the conversation at all, in fact. And Vahti's been very quiet, too. And... and she _knows_ his heart is locked up underground, behind an iron door, by that cruel bitch Iblan Ayla. Even as, at the same time, she knows he just lied to her face.

It's the same insidious, perfumed falsehood as the flowers. The one which she'd registered and ignored, moving on to what was more important - what she _knew_ was more important.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks is still under that subtle Illusion effect, and realises it's been shaping some of her thoughts for this encounter. And also that certain things don't quite add up.))  
> Inks: (How about I spend that WP then)  
> ST: ((That would probably be a good idea, yes. :P))  
> Inks: (Good learning experience though!)  
> ST: ((Stunt tearing the petals and perfume from your mind by sheer force of will~))  
> 

With Chronicle in her hand, the purity and shining wealth of Orichalcum cut through the cloying whispers and aromas. *this* was true beauty, glory and richness. Not heady scents and unfairly sexy pretty men! Her anima flared out as well, spiraling up into an incandescent bonfire of righteous glory. Unlike normal flowers that might turn to face the sun, these blossoms shied away, shamed by her presence!

The world rippled... and _changed_.

The invasive beliefs burnt up in a flash of sunfire. The flowers and desert grass around her burnt to fine ash under the brilliant glare of her anima. The garden withered, scorched and abused by the light.

And there were worse changes than that, too. Like the empty hammock pooled on the ground in front of her, Maji blinking at where his paw rested on the ground. Like the absence of Vahti at her side - so _quiet_ for the whole conversation; unnaturally so.

The slave girl, at least, remained. She was real. But even that was awful, in a way, because even as alertness returned to her dull eyes, she cried out in agony, staggering back from the range of Inks' anima with sunburnt skin and gasping sobs of pain.  
  


>   
> Inks: (going to anima level 2 as well, as I'm pretty low on motes)  
> ST: ((Roll Compassion.))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [7, 6, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (Okay, so the pretty fae is gone?)  
> Inks: (and where is Vahti?)  
> 

At a hurried gesture, Maji moved to block the woman from the light of Inks's anima even as she took a wary step back. "Nabijah! To me!" she called out, hoping to have it carry across the structure.

>   
> ST: ((That is a very good question! So, Inks feels kind of shitty for going bonfire anima right next to a squishy mortal and whacking her with some nasty sun burns, and can make an Int+Occult roll at Diff 3 to guess at what just happened over the past few minutes.))  
> 

 

 

>   
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [5, 1, 8, 9, 10, 4, 7, 9, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

Damn. Damn damn _damn_. An illusionist-fae. And she'd walked right into it. Inks _hated_ feeling stupid. The flower-scent must have been the carrier for its mind-snare - no doubt set up as a trap for anyone trying to get into the manor. It had made her believe it was in the garden, and no doubt hit Vahti and the deyha with different fantasies, splitting up the intruders so it could pick them off one by one. Who knew where they were now -

Vahti might not even have crossed the garden to the hammock with her. At least Maji hadn't been separated from her. He might have fallen victim to the illusion like her, but the fae apparently couldn't trick their bond, and hadn't tried.

... at least some good had come of the dupe. It may have gotten one over on her, but it hadn't been able to fool her magic, either. She'd _learned_ from this - learned what manner of creature it was, learned how it snared its prey... and if she wasn't wrong; it had been responding to her in real time. Which meant that she had very much convinced it to _want_ her. Badly. It had tried to get her to go downstairs - maybe to lock herself in a vault or something - but it hadn't been faking its desire. The things she'd set to it had struck home.

And _now_ , she knew it for a liar.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice)  
> ST: ((All the information you got is valid - it was hit by your social attacks, etc, because it was just carrying out a conversation by proxy.))  
> Inks: (So before we close the session, as we're getting to that time, is Inks still in the estate? Like, it doesn't feel like we were moved around too much?)  
> Inks: (Legit, good balance of fuckery)  
> ST: ((Yeah, Inks didn't move at all. She was just talking to an empty hammock for a few minutes. And... hold on...))  
> ST: ((Give Inks' reaction to that realization.))  
> 

Everything snapped into place with a decisive, mental click. She jammed Chronicle into the crackling soil and stomped. "Sonnovao- _bitch_!"

A faint sound came from behind her. Maji snarled... but when Inks whirled on it with Chronicle raised, she was met by dark robes, a black veil and a ringed staff.  
"Spirits," Tatters told her. "I thought you'd _never_ work your way free."  
  


>   
> Inks: Sassy tatters is sassy  
> ST: 5xp + 1mxp  
> ST: In her defence, she just spent several minutes watching from the roof while the party split up like idiots chasing private fantasies and then desperately trying to work out a way to snap -her crush- Inks out of it that wouldn't result in the raksha making Inks think she was a horrible wyld monster that needed to be hit with a sword.  
> ST: (she was unsuccessful at this)  
> ST: (and was starting to consider resorting to desperate measures when Inks woke up on her own)  
> Inks: I figured  
> Inks: You're definitely fostering an environment that makes me want to be suspicious of everything  
> Inks: pros and cons to that  
> ST: Anyway, yes, I'm feeling very smug now. How did you find the twist? Did it feel too bullshit, or satisfyingly "yeah, I earned that"?  
> Inks: Hmm. Mostly 'Yeah I earned that', you have every right to be smug  
> ST: ^_^  
> Inks: I was definitely thrown off at the beginning like I mentioned  
> Inks: but overall it was a good decision  
> Inks: it uhmm..  
> ST: Good to hear. Sorry for the blindside.  
> Inks: Yeah, it threw me because I'm... used to there being the question of things like are they present/not present, as being more part of inksgame convention?   
> Inks: them Being There as we arrived triggered my 'contrivance' button- the raksha I mean  
> Inks: "It's not supposed to be that simple."  
> Inks: but that's an irrational response  
> Inks: sometimes it IS that simple  
> ST: Well, in this case it's also that he just doesn't leave much. He's there most of the time.  
> Inks: Right, but I had no way of knowing that or infering it  
> Inks: you essentially just Told Me by advancing the scene there  
> ST: Yeah, fair.  
> ST: Yeah, I think, hmm  
> Inks: andI didn't get to feel clever by having an opportunity to capture him outside his place of power- not that it always is gonna be an option!  
> ST: _I_ knew he was there (and was eager to get to the fun illusion stuff), and kind of forgot that you didn't.  
> Inks: now that being said, in defense of your approach, the procedural stuff  
> Inks: you don't always have to do it  
> Inks: it doesn't always add to the game  
> Inks: I'm still not happy with the implementation of Judge's Ear, either. It felt really frustrating to use. Having to call out specific phrases in big blocks of text is obnoxious.  
> Inks: but i'm glad I was willing and able to use it here nonetheless  
> ST: yes, heh  
> ST: that quite possibly saved her life  
> Inks: I figured you were pleased that I used it there, yes.  
> Inks: The thing about the illusion stuff is...  
> Inks: Hmm  
> Inks: some of it wasn't meaningful   
> Inks: like, I hadn't made the leap from 'Flowers being too pretty' to 'Fae being too pretty' until after the session  
> Inks: I mean it makes sense, but it's not quite Actionable.  
> Inks: You have a tendency, a stylistic preference, to play the Player, not the dice.   
> Inks: that's not a bad thing, but it's worth acknowledging that what you consider obvious pattern recogniztion fodder, other people simply may not grok  
> Inks: I am glad Pipera wasn't here, if only for avoiding *her* sass  
> Inks: re: Threats, you also tend not to use mechanical keywording like I expect  
> Inks: like none of the illusions used MDV  
> Inks: ergo, I could not think to use Temptation Resisting Stance  
> ST: Hmm. Okay, yeah. I'll take that under advice going forward.  
> Inks: Some of this is on me for not asking if it uses MDV or not, for example  
> Inks: but I generally feel bad to prod you about those things, because you already have a lot on your plate  
> ST: I think the play-the-player mentality comes in large part from my experience as a writer, incidentally.  
> Inks: howso?  
> ST: also from the fact that ES is a dick  
> ST: It's how I pulled off the twist ending of Game Theory.  
> ST: I played the audience.  
> ST: I gave them everything they technically needed to work out what was going to happen, but phrased it and set it up so they thought something else was happening, and then just never contradicted what they thought was going on.  
> Inks: yeah  
> ST: Kansas City Shuffle.  
> ST: I'm good at it, and it's a con I really like using.  
> Inks: so hypothetically inks could have boosted her MDV by 5 or something silly for the *scene*  
> Inks: which might've had hilarious consequences  
> ST: ... god, yes, TRS is bullshit for her.  
> ST: Sigh.  
> ST: "Vahti, why are you talking to an empty hammock?"  
> Inks: kek  
> Inks: I mean it works out well enough for you/the story  
> ST: yeah, that's kind of the other side of the issue  
> ST: If Solar "I don't want to play this game" tech like scene-long Judge's Ear is used too much, it can lead to things just... being anticlimaxes.  
> Inks: indeed, and there's that constant tug of war of play and counterplay  
> ST: Where the only way to challenge them is in the combat arena, because in social stuff and intrigue they can just hack through it all and smash everything under Excellencies.  
> ST: In the combat arena with demon lords and the like, no less.  
> Inks: More or less-though it's worth noting re: Judge's Ear  
> Inks: that it can infact be contested, the way it's supposed to work is to waive through Mortals, butonce you get into magical liars, it defaults to 'biased rolloff'  
> ST: Well, not just Judge's Ear. Also things like Righteous Lion Defense, etc.  
> Inks: just an example  
> ST: Can the insidious corrupter trick you into straying from your path to give his dark master a chance to capture you? As it turns out, no, because you're UBER COMMITTED to getting to the Lost Temple and so ignore his beguiling persuasive comments on what you might find in the ancient caves over yonder. Etc.  
> ST: I think, hmm  
> ST: What's the most powerful entity - besides Inks - that we've seen so far in Sunlit Sands?  
> Inks: right- but lots of players HATE that, and hate out easy it was to happen in pre-Exalted games.  
> Inks: Tekutali, I think  
> ST: Probably Etiyadi's father, the volcano god?  
> ST: Or Piercing Sun, I guess.  
> Inks: Piercing Sun I think is 'more practically powerful'  
> Inks: Isn't he like E4 or something, or higher?  
> Inks: you'd think that with his injury he'd have the time to raise his Essence  
> ST: In the Enlightenment system he's probably legit E6.  
> ST: But yeah, besides that, I've mostly been confronting her with mortals, the odd minor god and a couple of creepy ghosts.  
> Inks: Right, and thats honestly GREAT  
> Inks: because mortals are supposed to be the primary thing you rub elbows with in Exalted  
> Inks: they're what you give a damn about  
> Inks: Do these discussions help you at all? I'm always afraid of being too pokey about them.  
> ST: They're useful!  
> 


	49. Session 49: A Lush Oasis in Urban Gem

Inks stands in the wilting garden; an empty hammock before her, her soul flaring totemic around her, with a tiger, an exorcist and a victim.  
She is, to put it mildly, _somewhat nettled_.  
  


>   
> Inks: (For clarity I was going bonfire, the 4m/action level)  
> Inks: (But this is nice!)  
> ST: ((ah, whoops))  
> ST: ((anyway, yes, Tatters be here, react as you wish.))  
> Inks: (it happens!)  
> 

"Sonnova..." Inks hissed again. She gestured with one hand towards the injured woman, and Tatters looked at her with a questioning look, before an awkward pall of resignation descended upon her. The sunburns were treatable, but not at that moment.

Tatters did move the slave to one side, behind a shaded planter scoured clean of tainted flora. Maji meanwhile let out an ominous rumble. "Okay-" Inks cast about,  
"The Fae wanted me to go downstairs, into the basement. He said his heart was there. I'm not sure if his opinion of Ayla is true or the complete picture..."

Spinning in place, Inks took in the scene, looking for any last hint of Vahti, the Raksha- mortal inhabitants...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Crafty Observation Method, 5m to scan the scene in 5 seconds, per+invest)  
> Inks: (Stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dice))  
> Inks: !ex 14; Inks: [7, 4, 6, 5, 8, 4, 2, 8, 5, 1, 5, 3, 8, 1] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

The plants do not like the sunlight from her anima. They're wilting and charring under the brilliant rays. But nonetheless, there are some signs. She can see Vahti's footprints headed toward the house, a recent path someone must have walked... gods, right across the garden behind her while she was talking to the hammock. They gave her and Maji a wide berth, from the look of it, and headed towards the inside stairs that Inks had been planning on using to reach the master bedroom. The same way Vahti went.

"Upstairs." Inks pulled Chronicle back up with both hands, the massive blade was bouyant in her grip. Moving quickly and quietly, the three of them followed the path upwards...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Heading up stairs after Vahti's trail)  
> 

The inside of the villa has almost as many plants as the garden. Desert roses decorate every shelf, young palms loom out of knee-high pots, flowering vines wind around pillars, and the perfumed scent is heavy on the air as they turn their faces towards Inks.

... wait.

... no, yeah, on further examination the plants are definitely moving. The flowers bend towards her. The palms bend unnaturally to blockade the stairs. The vines... aww, darn.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks is in a wide, high-ceilinged hallway, having come through the door of the garden into the main line of the "E" on one side of the central wing.))  
> ST: ((To her left is the middle of the mansion and the staircase, which two palms are performing a Blockade Movement action on. To her right, the hallway ends at a set of folding doors - expensive wood, currently closed - that lead into the end wing. The vines are trying to Clinch her and Tatters and Maji; an action for which they have 4 dice.))  
> 

Snarling, Maji and Inks both drive their weapons into the encroaching vines. Chronicle cleaves through a dozen tendrils, while Maji's bronze claws pulp the stalks. Behind her, Inks heard the telltale ring of Tatter's staff, raking away the fronds.

>   
> Inks: (Parry, all 3 of us. Inks's PDV is 6, Maji's is around 4, Tatters is idk)  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [7, 2, 6, 5] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((sad trombone noises :V))  
> 

At a mental cue, Inks rounded on the palm fronds blocking the stairway and set Maji's bulk upon them. The bronze tiger surged forward, crashing into the leaves with all his weight and coiled power. Inks surged after him, with Tatters right on her heels.

>   
> Inks: (attempting to break the blockade)  
> ST: ((Okay, I, uh))  
> ST: ((I would ask for a feat of strength to do that))  
> ST: ((But it needs a Str+Ath pool of 3, and, um))  
> ST: ((Maji))  
> Inks: (Maji!)  
> ST: ((so let's just not even bother to mention it))  
> Inks: (So we go up the stairs!)  
> 

The efforts of the vines are, past that initial moment of fear, rather pathetic. They manage to slow the trio down a little, but no more than that - and while they keep up the effort, producing new growth for every length cut, it's really just an annoyance more than anything. The palms that weave themselves together in an 'X' across the staircase splinter without even making Maji grunt. If this is the extent of the raksha's power to hinder them physically, it's no surprise it tried to ensnare Inks' minds.  
The screaming men with sabres who charge down the staircase to meet them, now, _they_ might present a bit more of a problem.

>   
> ST: ((Two unarmoured sabre-users; Wits+War roll at Diff 1.))  
> Inks: !ex 4; Inks: [6, 8, 6, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Yeah, Inks notes that they're uncoordinated as hell and the staircase is narrow enough that they're actually going to be getting in each other's way.))  
> Inks: (Seeing as Maji is in the lead)...  
> 

The tiger's massive size takes up the stairway, wide as two men standing shoulder to shoulder. With grace despite his weight, Maji plants his paws and breathes deep for a roar that shakes the rafters!

>   
> Inks: (Maji cha+presence stunt to intimidate the saber dudes)  
> Inks: !ex 8; Inks: [3, 7, 2, 8, 4, 8, 1, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

They don't stop. In fact, they scream battle cries in return. And Inks' sharp mind can't help but wonder... what are they seeing her as? What do they _think_ they're attacking?

>   
> ST: ((Unless she has a clever plan, roll Join Battle!))  
> Inks: (Well, Maji's in front, so if they swing, they're gonna hit him....)  
> Inks: (hmm... clever plan)  
> Inks: (Nope, got nothin')  
> Inks: !ex 6 "Maji"; Inks: [3, 1, 8, 9, 8, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 4 "Inks"; Inks: [4, 6, 1, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Tatter's JB pool?)  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [3, 7, 5, 2, 9, 2, 9, 7] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (And now sabredudes)  
> ST: !ex 4; ST: [9, 4, 2, 9] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> ST: !ex 4;> ST: [5, 4, 3, 1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> ST: ((Tatters and Maji, then sabredudes, then Inks.))  
> ST: ((Declare for Maji))  
> 

His roar proved ineffective- this could not be abided. A warning note from his mistress had him retract his claws at the last minute, but that did not change the fact that his was a mighty scion of a war god! Swiping across from hip to hip, he lashed out with one massive paw!

>   
> Inks: (Single swipe attack with paw, pulling the blow (-1 external), 6 dice to roll before stunt)  
> Inks: (spending 2m on 2nd MA as well)  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [9, 4, 3, 8, 7, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (erk, I should've waited for you to declare DV)  
> ST: ((DV 2, taken down to 1 from the way they're literally getting in one another's way.))  
> Inks: (Hits by 2, 11 bashing damage, soak?)  
> Inks: (I think it's telling that Maji on his own hits _almost_ as hard as Chronicle)  
> ST: ((7B soak))  
> Inks: (wow, more than I expected for unarmored dudes... if they actually Are)  
> Inks: !ex 4 "Don't count 10s"; Inks: [5, 6, 1, 10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (One bashing level of damage)  
> Inks: (It occurs to me also that the attackers should have height advantages, if they're standing above us on the stairwell, cover bonuses)  
> ST: ((Ah, true.))  
> Inks: (Learning experience! I've never seen people use them before!)  
> ST: ((Anyway, ahem. Tatters goes for BEATSTICK FLURRY SMASH.))  
> Inks: (Show us her power, oh glorious ST)  
> 

One man fell under Maji's huge paw - bruised, but miraculously intact despite his flimsy clothes and lack of armour. The other raises his sword to bring it down on the tiger's head.

Tatters is behind him.

The movement was _unnatural;_ closer to the sudden lurch of a jumping spider across ten times its body length than anything a human could do. One moment she was next to Inks, the next she'd cleared vines and palms and stair-rail to land crouched on the stairs behind him. Her staff whips around with no grace or finesse or elegance, just sheer brute savagery, to take him in the head.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Tatters is making a freakishly long Jump action to get behind him and smacking him very hard in the head with a heavy khakkhara.))  
> ST: !ex 11; ST: [1, 4, 9, 5, 2, 4, 6, 3, 5, 10, 3] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((... seriously, Tatters? Well, she still beat his DV by 2.))  
> Inks: (And did negate his height bonus)  
> ST: ((Damage is 13B-7B soak.))  
> ST: !ex 6; ST: [1, 4, 2, 10, 9, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: ((...))  
> Inks: (3 bashing)  
> ST: ((Ow.))  
> Inks: (That's really good for a damage roll)  
> ST: ((So yeah, he's, uh, basically out of the fight now.))  
> 

The poor man went down almost as hard and fast as the one Maji had pinned, and didn't try to get up again.

>   
> Inks: (So, strictly speaking we're still on tick 0. That means there are roughly 3 ticks before Sabredude gets to act, meaning Everyone Else can take move actions.)  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> Inks: (So Maji will likey move 'up' the stairs past the fallen dude, to join Tatters, as will Inks. I figure the remaining dude can match pace with either Maji or Inks)  
> Inks: (Maji is dex 1, Inks is dex 2)  
> ST: ((Tatters got Dude 2. Dude 1 got smacked by Maji and fell down - he's not hurt, but Maji's attack on the stairs rolled six dice of raw damage and knocked him prone.))  
> ST: ((So you have two ticks before he can even try to start struggling upright.))  
> Inks: (aha, then let's just blow past him then.)  
> ST: ((We can basically end the combat, yeah. Blow on up past him! Go go go!))  
> 

Leaving the winded man to his gasping, Inks and the others rushed up the stairs, onto the second floor. Casting about, Inks spied the richest, most well appointed looking direction. Lavish tiled floors, wall niches with art slowly being taken over by plants and wyld-tainted cuttings. The air was thick with that illusiory perfume...

And there, through the door of the master bedroom, she could see the raksha lying indolently on a wide and luxurious bed. Naked. Defenseless. Gorgeous.

And Vahti stood beside him with a knife held to her throat.

"Ah ah," the creature said. "None of that now. Or else."

There's movement from either side of her. From the other rooms up here, people pile out. Servants, slaves, men and women - some dressed in finery, some almost nude. All threatening themselves with death.

"You don't fear them attacking you, do you?" The fae thing's words tickle the ear, its voice like rich and scented honey. "But Ayla told me you're kind. You care about them, don't you? You felt guilty about Mae."

Movement from downstairs. The men are picking themselves up, swords held to their throats - and the girl from the garden is there as well. With a pocket knife. Her frightened eyes look almost apologetic as she mouths something to Inks.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Rooooooll Compassion~))  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [10, 7, 5] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> ST: ((Lol))  
> ST: !ex 5; ST: [5, 6, 3, 9, 1] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((... jesus, Tatters.))  
> 

Beside Inks, Tatters hisses with fury. Inks can _feel_ her desire to say "hang it all" and lunge for the creature regardless.  
But she doesn't. She throws down her staff in grudging surrender.

Letting Chronicle drop with a huff, Inks fixed the creature with an unkind scowl. The blade dropped wide-point first into the bedroom floor, somehow managing to stay upright despite it's weight.

"There we go. Isn't that better?" the fae says, languidly sitting upright. "Isn't that more pleasant? Why don't you bring those nasty weapons over to me, hmm?"  
"As a favour."

"I think Chronicle is just fine where it is." Inks declared. Maji meanwhile bristled, hackles raised and snarling. Inks crossed her arms, frowning more severely. Her eyes were open, and she took in the scene. The Raksha had used a mouthpiece before... And even if it hadn't, hardening herself against it's wiles would help.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Aware, and activating Temptation Resisting Stance)  
> Inks: !ex 9 "per 5 awa 2 +2d from Cat Style"; Inks: [7, 10, 2, 3, 10, 1, 8, 1, 10] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> Inks: (Also note that I'm still at bonfire mode)  
> 

This was the real deal - the creature felt safe showing itself because of its collateral in the form of knives to throats. But there _was_ something off. It was just a little too eager for her to do as it said; a bit too hungry with the way it said 'favour'.

Its eyes narrow. "I have so many slaves here," it sighs. "It's no cost to me if one of them should cut. But if you wish, I'll let you keep your weapons. I'll even release your friend in good faith. Stop radiating that _awful_ light, bow to me in worship, and I will consider your service enough for that indulgence."

The girl from the garden - Mae - made a faint whimper. Inks could see her out of the corner of her eye, still outside the bedroom like Inks, not quite in the raksha's sightline due to the doorframe. She didn't move the beltknife from her pulse point... but very subtly, she was shaking her head in warning.

"Hmm..." Inks cocked her head to one side. Pageantry and melodrama, those were the watchwords when dealing with Fae. She drummed her fingers against her bicep, eyes flashing with intent. She would have his measure, like it or not.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Knowing the Soul's Price. Diff 1, External Penalty equal to [man+soc]/2.)  
> ST: ((-6 penalty))  
> Inks: (conviction channel, so 5d+ per 5, invest 4, +3 style die, +4 autosux...)  
> Inks: !ex 17 +4 -6; Inks: [3, 10, 4, 9, 2, 4, 2, 2, 10, 7, 7, 4, 4, 1, 2, 2, 2] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... holy shit, what.))  
> ST: ((Impressive, lol))  
> Inks: (amusingly it only cares about beating difficulty, KtSP doesn't count threshold successes)  
> 

It hungers. Oh, it hungers. It wants to feed, it wants to own. It wants to chain her into servitude. To root its fingers in her skull and make her its own, to hold a trophy like her and feed from her until she runs dry, to overcome the hated sunlight within her. There's nothing noble or artful about the desires of this creature, but to someone who could meet them... anything.

>   
> ST: (("To possess and devour a Solar-tier Exalt."))  
> Inks: (Yeush, I have no idea how to game that)  
> Inks: (well, no I kinda do)  
> Inks: (thinking)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll me... Wits+Socialize, to guess at its intentions.))  
> Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [4, 1, 10, 1, 1, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> Inks: (yeush, four 1s)  
> ST: ((Ow. Hmm. Okay...))  
> 

Favour. Service. It wants her to _do_ things for it... and Inks isn't entirely sure it's just stroking its own ego. But why else? There's something she's missing here, some final trick it thinks it can use to snare her and get what it wants - because it can't keep these hostages forever, and a creature without empathy can't possibly believe she'd trade her life for theirs.

Silent for a long moment, Inks continued to study the creature. All of it's sublime beauty, obvious appeal- the fact that it was so comfortable despite the aggression in the air... In some ways it was like looking into a mirror. It wanted her... And Inks could not shake the impression that some part of it wanted to *be* her...  
Agent or avatar- that was one question. And this thing's *ego* seemed too big for just one body. What was she missing...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+Invest, 12d before stunt)  
> ST: ((2 dice, go for it.))  
> Inks: !ex 14; Inks: [8, 9, 7, 5, 2, 8, 7, 3, 5, 9, 4, 2, 5, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

She missed it the first time. She almost missed it _this_ time, even after having that thought about the mirror. It wasn't until she went back and looked at what it was doing that it twigged.

It was the _Bennet Faran effect_. 'Nanda had told her about it - the Nexan council member who'd used and abused it to great success. Inks herself had used it; the paradoxical way that getting someone to do you a favour made them more, not less, likely to do more than if you'd done them one.  
  


>   
> ST: ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Franklin_effect :3)  
> 

_That's_ what this thing's trick was. If it could get people to do something for it, it gained power over them. The more ways they served it, she was willing to guess, the more power it had - until they were lost, utterly; living slaves to its will. Vahti must have come up here, beguiled by its illusions, and... what? Fetched it a cup of wine? Kissed it on the cheek? Praised its beauty? Something. Anything that would count as a service.

But this was no demon prince or wandering legend. It was powerful, oh yes, but not as powerful as Inks herself, and _she_ couldn't ensnare someone utterly with a single conversation. Which meant that it might have a hold on Vahti; it might have a leash around her soul, but it wasn't ironclad yet.  
It probably couldn't kill her with it.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Inks has guessed that the raksha has some way of turning "favours done for it" into some combination of Compulsion to Servitude to Total Control effect, getting stronger and stronger the longer you serve it.))  
> Inks: (So what I'm hearing is that Vahti, at least, cannot be ordered to kill herself, as well)  
> ST: ((That's why it was trying so hard to get her to bring her sword to it or to bow for it.))  
> ST: ((And yes. Inks thinks, given the short time it's had Vahti, that it probably can't give her Unacceptable Orders. It can tell her to hold a knife to her throat, and she will, but it probably can't get her to use it.))  
> ST: ((Whether it can for the rest of the servants and slaves is anyone's guess.))  
> Inks: (Prepare yourself, ST. Inks is Gonna Inks)  
> ST: ((And yes, that has a hilarious synergy with its Illusions. :3))  
> 

Inks yawned. Long and theatric.

Tatters blinked owlishly, staring at her. Maji did as well- the tiger's snarl morphed into a helplessly perplexed expression.  
The Fae too, blinked.

"Bored now." Inks shook her head and reached out to call Chronicle back to her hand with a meaty 'thwack'. "You're absolutely right that _I_ care about these people here and now. That I don't want to see them hurt. What you might not realize is that their lives are already forfeit."

"Rankar The Seventh, Despot of Gem, would likely not allow them to live any longer than absolutely necessary. Kill them now, execute them later. It's a monstrous thing, but it's far more likely than you might think.".

"So here's what's going to happen." Inks stalked forward, and Maji picked up on her mood with a gleeful, nasty temper. "You're going to let Vahti go. You're going to let everyone else here go. You're going to do _me_ the favor of surrendering-"

She came to the end of the bed, holding Chronicle in both hands, horizontal out from her hips. The light of her anima and the trickling half-image of her totemic iconography leaking out, reflected by the Daiklave's polished Orichalcum surface. She shined the light of the sun into the Fae's eyes, even as it whined.

"-Because this is the end of your time here. I know you- I _own you_. You just don't know it yet. Now give me your oath, that I am your new god-king, and you may yet live to worship me as I deserve."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Is she bluffing, or legit suppressing Compassion?))  
> Inks: (Well, if she bluffs, that's Manipulation 2, if she's not bluffing, that's Charisma 2. I figure she's bluffing, but will channel Conviction to stick to her story.)  
> ST: ((Yes, but it's also important for other reasons. So, Inks isn't willing to go through with it if it calls her bluff and has one of them stab themselves?))  
> Inks: (Hmm.. Okay, then yeah in that case, she is suppressing Compassion. Thanks for clarifying)  
> 

The fae blinked at her again, slowly. "I'm not bluffing," it says after a moment. Its tone is somewhere between patronising superiority and worried confusion. "I'll have them kill themselves. Starting with your flame duck. Or maybe Mae? I know you felt bad about her in the garden. Come in, Mae!"

It peers at her as the bruised, sunburnt girl enters. She walks mechanically, the knife never moving from her neck, but Inks can see her muscles tensing and untensing as she tries to cringe away from it; the slight hitching of her breath as she almost, but doesn't quite, sob.  
  


>   
> ST: ((It's trying to Read Motive.))  
> ST: ((To see if Inks is serious.))  
> Inks: (so Man 2, Soc 4... I think sun queen admiration style works here, as well. This is an informal venue, 'public debate among subjects or peers', lemme stunt as well)  
> 

To most, Inks was a gregarious, friendly sort. Mirthful. She had a face that let itself well to easy grins or inviting pouts. At that moment, her face was akin to polished stone. Only her hair seemed to move in the warm air created by her own Anima, and she stared down past her nose at the fae tempter.

>   
> ST: !ex 10; ST: [8, 5, 10, 4, 4, 9, 4, 1, 2, 1] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [5, 5, 1, 4, 6, 4, 3, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

It was gratifying - truly, wonderfully gratifying - to see the spark of panic that flared in its eyes as it realized she was serious.

It was somewhat less gratifying when the khakkhara came down on her shoulder.

There was no force behind the impact, but it still felt alarmingly heavy. The rings swayed gently, clinking against each other.

" _Inks,_ " said Tatters, quietly.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." Inks declared. She did not take her eyes away from the Raksha. "We call this the rock and the hard place. The _moment_ you make them bleed, you're dead. Don't think we can't do it. You can't keep the hostages forever, and if you even want the smallest _chance_ of getting me like you want, you're going to have to play by my rules."

"Nothing you can do can get you out of this. There is no way you come out on top. So do *yourself* the favor and swear fealty to me."

Uncertainty blooms on the raksha's face. Then shock. Then rage. Then panic. It's a fascinating progression. It breathes in to speak, to yell, to order its slaves to slice their throats... and Chronicle glints in the burning sunlight of Inks' anima.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Roll me Cha+Pres, 3-die stunt))  
> ST: ((+2 bonus from DANGER LADY))  
> Inks: !ex 22 "cha 2 pres 4, +3 stunt, +2 bonus, +5 Conviction, +6d 1st presence"; Inks: [1, 5, 10, 10, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 3, 2, 10, 8, 3, 10, 9, 8, 6, 7, 1, 8, 7] was rolled for 15 successes.  
> 

Pure hatred is the last thing to dawn on its face. Pure hatred... and something a little bit like love.

It rolls upright on the bed and kneels, skin blistering at the edges of Inks' anima.

"On my Name, I swear fealty, sun-blessed," it says. "I am Lush Oasis Lures Men Into Servitude With Sweet Fragrance, and I will serve you until my teeth fasten tight around your soul."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Judge's ear on 'I will serve you')  
> ST: ((NOT LIE))  
> 

"Very well then. Release your captives- unharmed!"

Lush Oasis bares its teeth at her, but flicks a hand. "Set down your weapons," it calls. "Threaten yourselves no more."

"Excellent." Relaxing a fraction, Inks let her anima die down, and she gestured to Tatters. "Help me check them, then let's move on." She turned to Vahti- " How are you doing?"

She says nothing. Does nothing, besides lowering the knife and dropping it. There's something in her posture now, though; frustration in her eyes, a sort of helpless indignation mixed with relief.  
  


>   
> ST: ((wording~))  
> 

Turning to Oasis, Inks scowled. "Release your captives _fully_."

Scrunching up its face, the fae let out an aggrieved sigh. It didn't wave or speak this time - it probably hadn't needed to the first time - but Vahti sags suddenly, able to move and speak again.

" _Bastard!_ " is her first word, lunging at Inks' new slave with murder on her mind.

"Hold it!" Inks lets Chronicle go to scoop the elemental up in an expansive hug. "He's mine now, and I won't forget this." She held the shorter woman close, rubbing reassuring circles into her back.

"He... I didn't... I thought he was..." sobs Vahti, huddling into her. "I wasn't... he _tricked_ me, he..."

"Shh..." Inks nodded. "He got me too, at first. It's okay..." Maji, being the great helpful lug that he was, stalked around Oasis, keeping him from saying or doing much. Inks hugged Vahti a bit tighter. "Okay... Where's Nabijah and the Deyha?" She asked Tatters first, then Oasis.

"They charged off into the far wing," Tatters said. "I don't know what happened to them in there, but the noises were disgusting."

"They found a few pretty boys who suited their tastes waiting for them," Lush Oasis drawls, bored and remorseless. "And while they were busy with their fantasies, I had my flowers tie them up. I was going to eat them later. After you."

"Lovely. Let _them_ go too, Oasis." Inks let out a waspish sigh. "We'll need them shortly...  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I think unless I'm missing some obvious gotcha, we can pull out to a more general dramatic action to finish clearing the manor and moving on?)  
> ST: ((Yup. Okay, what's your general plan for dealing with the immediate aftermath here?))  
> Inks: (Find out who's in charge of the building, do a head count, make sure Oasis isn't leaving any traps behind. And then marching Oasis to Rankar)  
> Inks: (shall I stunt that, or roll, both?)  
> ST: ((Stunt it in a moment, no real need for a roll. First make a Per+Occult check at Diff 4.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; Inks: [8, 4, 5, 6, 2, 4, 3, 3, 10] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> Inks: (ouch, fail)  
> ST: ((Ayla isn't in the building, and there's nobody missing... but a number of the released slaves are just standing there and staring blankly, with signs Inks recognises as having been fully dream-eaten.))  
> ST: ((It's released them, but there's nothing left there.))  
> Inks: (Drat)  
> 

While not a perfect victory, Inks at least felt that she had not blundered too badly. Finding the Deyha was an experience all of it's one, one Inks would not want to repeat... But all told, getting everyone back together and up to date made the rest of the operation move far more smoothly.

Co-opting Alya's office supplies, Inks made a headcount, noting who was present and not. The house manager was a great help, even if he was out of sorts from the Fae's mental games. Of the dream-eaten slaves, Inks frowned. They were essentially listless husks, automata of flesh and bone now, more than anything. Maybe she could treat them, but not likely not now or soon.

With everything more or less handled, Inks, Nabijah and Vahti marched their 'captive' out of Alya's manor and through the streets and tunnels. Tatters obligingly took to the shadows, watching over the procession with orders to slay the Raksha if it attempted anything.

Sending Maji ahead via sorcerous messenger, Inks asked that Rankar be prepared to meet her party, with guards and protections against fae trickery at hand.

They're met at the gates of the palace by what seems to be the entire royal guard of the Despot. Celi is standing there, ablaze with power, as is the blue-robed figure of the water god Inks has heard also serves Rankar as a sorcerer. Three elementals of air, wood and water crouch around him, ready for battle.

Piercing Sun (4/10, "good starting plan, and you won, but your forces were scattered and you had to carry the day yourself - that won't always work, girlie") - takes a long look at the display and quietly scoffs. Lush Oasis sighs.

"Well then," says Rankar, not stepping from the protection of the god and elemental at his sides or the line of spearmen in front of him. "It seems, my sorceress, as though you told the truth. Come. We clearly have much to speak about."  
  


>   
> ST: ((And close session there, I think. We can cover the way this plays out in brief abstracted terms as part of the "fall of House Iblan" strategic stuff next session. 5xp + 1mxp ))  
> 


	50. Session 50: The Fate of House Iblan

>   
> Inks: *salutes*  
> ST: Okay then  
> ST: (just catching up on responses to last session in-thread)  
> ST: So, a milestone!  
> ST: halfway to a hundred, I believe  
> ST: whoop whoop
> 
> Inks: yep! And I'll start planning out a more refined logging on Ao3  
> Inks: and its own standalone thread on SV
> 
> ST: Cool. If you could set out a solid timeline while you're at it, that'd be grand  
> Inks: I'd definitely work on it, yeah  
> ST: so then  
> 

Consider a great hall at the heart of a grand palace. Its walls are lined with curtains; draped and hung so that their folds soften the hard stone surfaces and brutal straight lines of the architecture. Thick mats cover the floor; wonderfully plush to the touch. A trio of dancing-slaves perform a slow routine in one corner, and plants are scattered here and there to freshen the air; both desert flowers and more exotic imports like orchids from the coast or the mountains - status symbols for how water-hungry they are.

Against the far wall, a raised dais. On it, a jewel-studded golden throne. Inks has been here before, in the throne room of the Despot of Gem. Oh yes, she first saw this place all the way back when she was just starting out in this city; a year or more ago.

But now there's a difference.

Now, _she's_ one of the people on the dais. Now, a velvet chaise lounge stands just behind and to the left of the grand, imposing throne - perfect for her to drape herself over and look down from the dais at supplicants come to beg the Despot's favour.

There are no such supplicants today. Not at the moment, at least. For now, it's just her, Rankar and their respective entourages in the room. Celi stands at attention on the other side of the throne, needing no seat, while Maji sprawls out next to the lounge and Vahti melts into his warm furry bulk.

The Despot is not happy. But it's not her he's angry at. In fact, this episode seems to have driven her somewhat deeper into his trust, as he speaks.

"It is traditional for a Despot's sorcerers to advise him on matters that touch on their domain," he tells Inks. "So. My sorceresses. Advise me. The oldest, richest house in my city has a fae-bride on its very council. You claim that there are those among them who plot a coup and seek to take my throne - and while you have not proven that, you _were_ speaking true about the fae. And their head of house, and her two most trusted advisors, have tried to have my court sorceress killed."

He steeples his fingers, staring daggers at the broad doors on the far wall, not turning to look at either of the women flanking him. "Tell me then. What do you suggest I do?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((The fae is imprisoned for now, you can stunt how if it comes up in your reply - though Rankar will have wanted to chain it up with agonising manacles of iron and lock it in one of his deepest cells with no human contact.))  
> Inks: (yaaay pageantry, drama/intrigue)  
> Inks: (I figured it'd have been gagged with an iron bit/plate at Inks's order, in fact)  
> ST: ((Nice. So, consider this your statement of intent for what you want to do with strategic actions - and you can roll Int+(Lore, Socialise or Bureaucracy) depending on stunt to consider options.))  
> Inks: (got it, writans!)  
> 

  
  
A bowl of chilled fruits- strawberries and cherries, sat within oh so tempting arm's reach. Inks wanted one, badly. She wanted to sample the dark chocolate sauce Rankar had imported from the coastal tropics. Some of it might've even come from Inks's trade deals with the Coxati.

But this was a serious matter. "My investigations led me to believe that various members of Iblan _want_ your throne, not that they were engaged with any meaningful plan to claim it. It's the difference between having a political agenda, and hiring assassins."

"House Iblan is an important anchor to the economy and stability of Gem. I've had that pounded into my head frequently enough. The sudden and aggressive dissolution would do Gem no favors. No matter what though- any decision made cannot be a sign of weakness."

Inks sat up and used the lounge to stretch, but no matter what angle or pose she took, the spirit-deep soreness in her body refused to leave. She'd at least changed out of her armor in favor of a gown Rankar provided- an insubstantial affair that he or his staff picked on reflex.

"Iblan Ayla's life is forfeit, I'm almost certain. If she hasn't fled Gem, she is a dead woman walking." Inks noted. "I'd only ask that her execution be humane, if for no other reason than to deny her ghost any traction after death... Of the other councilors... I have no personal stake. They were just doing what they thought was best."

"I would audit House Iblan, bringing their workings out into the light, both good and bad. I would want a better picture of their structure and holdings before saying much more."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Bureaucracy, probably)  
> ST: ((2 dot stunt))  
> Inks: !ex 21 +1 "willpower"; Inks: [3, 5, 10, 2, 10, 10, 10, 3, 2, 2, 10, 2, 1, 8, 1, 9, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Niiiiiice))  
> Inks: (I'm also feeling fatigue penalties from the past two sessions of anima flaring)  
> 

  
  
His fingers drum on the arm of the throne. "Be that as it may, a decision must be made. When I summon Iblan Bana from her waiting room, the decision on House Iblan's fate must be made at once, even if it is deferred in practice."

Inks nods. She runs businesses. She knows how this sort of thing works. Rankar needs to make a decision of some sort _now,_ and present this catastrophe as resolved. What that decision is... well, it'll have a cover a number of topics, and he has a few different options.

Ignoring the immediate concerns like Ayla, the fae and the thralls and dream-eaten slaves it left, which can largely be handled separately, she judges that whatever Despotic Edict he makes will need to wrap up, or present a way to wrap up, both the murmurings of a coup in House Iblan - which as a cruel, petty, paranoid man he's going to be inclined to seek for relentlessly and crush without mercy - and the ultimate future of the House. 

Luckily, the conflict between Bana and Inks wasn't public, so it can probably be suppressed and they won't need to deal with the backlash from two well-known public parts of Gem's economy being seen as at war with each other.

With destroying House Iblan outright not an option, that means he'll either want to leave Bana where she is while punishing her severely for the crimes of her house, meddle in its affairs by kicking her out and having them select a new head, or - the riskiest - place his own candidate in charge, perhaps even Inks herself. 

The more leeway he leaves House Iblan with, the more freedom they'll have in future and the more they'll think they can get away with something like this again. But the more he interferes directly in the running of a Great House, the more the others will balk. The very public revelation of the fae the Iblans were harbouring has bought them a lot of public opinion, but this is still dangerous territory for him.  
  


>   
> Inks: (nice)  
> Inks: (Lessee...)  
> 

  
  
"I would claim House Iblan for the offense against me." Inks declared. "Maybe not permanently, but they escalated to violence immediately, thinking I was a threat in more economic domains."

They were of course correct, but it was still worth noting. "The house's institutional memory alone is too valuable to simply dissolve outright. The current councilors will need to be interviewed and assessed if they can retain their positions or be asked to step down. Iblan as it stands cannot survive your displeasure, but I can make it _better_."

"House Iblan will not accept an outsider as their head," Celi notes. The casual majesty she usually keeps suppressed flares, and it's suddenly impossible not to listen to her. "The councilors can be dealt with, but the house itself must follow for a leader to be obeyed. Iblan is old, and it is proud. They will not follow one without the name. It would be a struggle even for them to follow a newcomer who had it."

Inks nodded. "True enough." Under her breath, she sighed. 'why does it always come down to marriage'? She shook her head, smiling despite the topic.

"Then I would argue that all the councilors are asked to step down, until their loyalties can be reaffirmed. And then replacements desginated from within the house, by vote or appointment."  
  


>   
> ST: ((She's giving up on the takeover idea that easily?))  
> Inks: (Not sure, still thinking)  
> Inks: (typans)  
> 

  
  
"Acknowledging Celi's point, I stand by my desire to claim House Iblan." She turned to face Rankar, and the combination of the lounge chair and her gown catered to his preferences no matter what she did. "With that in mind, I think the argument to be made... is that House Iblan- the people that make it up beyond the councilors, should only be punished as much as necessary and not one bit further-"

"The councilors are largely the ones threatening the stability of Gem and their own House with their pre-emptive strike, not their underlings, who are talented, useful or simply subordinates. There's little point in pushing them, and it's far easier to root out institutional biases when the leadership is no longer manipulating the keys to power."

"Then consider my own talents- in less than a year look at what I have done as an entrepeneur, someone who came into Gem so little, and now look at me. Imagine what House Iblan could accomplish- the opportunity exists for us to convince House Iblan that my leadership is in their best interest."

How though, was the question. Celi was right- they were proud, entrenched, and any edict by Rankar would be seen as an infringement on their sovereignty. "Consider this- I am the open hand to your clenched fist. Or a third party, if you think my direct involvement will damage the punishment-

"I am a Solar- a genius and Chosen of the Sun." She sat up more fully, grinning. "I learned the secrets of forging holy gold metals like Tumbaga and Orichalcum, before I even came to Gem. Offer them my expertise alongside my mercy- and make it clear that little stands between them and your rage excpet me."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Short-version. Inks is developing an argument to take to House Iblan/temporary councilors that she is a Good Business Partner or Auditor. That Rankar Could have smote them, but is holding back because of her request. Also to make it clear, that this is protrayed as 'Rankar has final say'   
> Inks: (Not, 'Rankar is manipulated by Inks)  
> ST: ((Roll me Charisma+Presence for MAKIN' SOUND AND REASONED ARGUMENTS))  
> Inks: (Gonna channel Conviction, Sexy Stunner, tool bonus for lounge/dress?)  
> Inks: (cause let's be honest, Rankar totally would have put Inks in a skimpy harem outfit as fast as he possibly could)  
> Inks: (stunt value?)  
> ST: ((2 dots.))  
> Inks: !ex 18 +1; Inks: [7, 3, 10, 8, 5, 6, 2, 2, 6, 9, 1, 7, 6, 4, 1, 2, 5, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
"Hmm," Rankar grunts, shifting forward in his throne and steepling his fingers. The debate between his advisors ceases as they wait to hear his decision.

"The fae and its bride will be pinned out under the sun to die," he decides. "Iblan Bana and Iblan Omar will stand down from their positions for the unprovoked assault on my court sorceress. You," he directs to Inks, "rooted out the corruption in their ranks, and will therefore lead an audit of the Iblan affairs, with Celi or Iblan Asenya accompanying you at all times to be sure you are fair in your assessment. Should your findings satisfy me that the house poses no further threat to the city, I will allow House Iblan to select a new head and a new Master of the Mint from within their ranks."

He turns, catching Inks' eye. "This is the position you will argue me down to, pleading mercy and ignorance of the traitor among their ranks, from my initial suggestion that I repeal their control over the Mint." He pauses, to allow the weight of that threat to sink in. "Your findings will _not_ be satisfactory. Do you understand?"

"You plan a pretense to install someone of your choosing? To play up Iblan's threat in my report?"

"I expect you to uncover _something_ that allows me to remind House Iblan of their place," Rankar says, which isn't _technically_ an explicit order to lie in her report if she has to, but Inks can hear the subtext. Apparently the Despot is feeling vicious today.

"Understood."

He nods sharply and gestures to a servant. "Call in the Iblan party."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, no need to go into the actual meeting itself in detail - roll me Manipulation + Presence for how you're setting up the situation and playing your role in the little performance to force them to bow to his authority. Stunt if you want, in a general overarching sense where we can ignore specific dialogue or playing it out line-by-line. Bana will probably be glaring daggers at you, but that goes without saying.))  
> Inks: (Got it, writing)  
> 

  
  
Her compassion had to appear as a source of strength, not weakness. That was the thought that Inks carried into her role during the proceedings. She would not be the demure, watery-hearted sort who trembled at the thought of blood or death. Mercy did not have to be nice, nor did it have to be needlessly cruel..

So when Iblan Bana and her party were escorted in under armed guard, stripped of their finery save what documents and files they brought to bear- Inks sat on the lounge upright and poised. Not as judge, but arbiter. When Bana's fiery eyes glared at her, Inks met the woman's stare with a simple, unapologetic one of her own. When Rankar's _displeasure_ started echoing off the halls of his grand throne-room, Inks waited until he had said his piece.

There, she declared with a strong, calm tone that there was an alternative. Rising, she moved to Rankar's slouching form and laid a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. Bana glared all the harder, indignant at the obvious intimacy and sensual manipulation, both real and imagined.

Even so, Inks made her case, in cool, even tones that fit the mouth of a queen. Words that brooked no argument from the accused and only thoughtful grunts and suffering indulgence from the Despot of Gem. Finally he dismissed her with a harsh wave of his hand and a fierce scowl on his lips.

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Heh. 3-dot stunt for being a dramatic ho, roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 16 +1; Inks: [1, 8, 4, 4, 3, 2, 7, 9, 6, 2, 8, 1, 9, 8, 6, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((Aaaaand success! Okay, gimme a bit, and then we can move into the strategic action for AUDITING AND CAMPAIGNING.))  
> ST: ((Okay then. Auditing House Iblan, which is of _pretty massive size,_ is a big undertaking. It's a Major seasonal action comprised of three month-long sub-actions. You'll be rolling (Int or Per)+Bureaucracy for each one.))  
> 

  
  
Over the next few months, Inks and Celi - with occasional interjections by a grumpy Asenya when Celi has errands to run for the Despot - audit House Iblan.

The sentence makes it sound much, much simpler than it actually is.

There are, Inks concludes, three main parts to House Iblan's business operations. The Mint, the Treasury and the Smelter-Yards. Everything else is arrayed around and within them - small wonder, then, that three of Bana's four crucial keys to power were the heads of each.

In all three cases, one after another, she must tour the site, meet the head, be introduced to the roles and responsibilities of the staff, hit the books, search through the records, investigate what they've been doing, what they are doing and how they do it. She has to root out any scurrilous notions of a coup, hunt for any worship of fell things Rankar has banned from the city, and all the while make a good impression on those she means to rule; winning their trust and acclaim.

Any task is easier when you break it down into chunks, of course, and so Inks must decide which area to start with.  
  


>   
> Inks: (we can assume Inks has rested up and regained WP/motes for these actions, of course)  
> ST: ((Yes. Though I should add that these will be _contested_ actions - you'll be pitting your dicepool up against that of the head of each section.))  
> ST: ((... except for the Mint, whose head is Omar, who is on forced standdown.))  
> ST: ((And thus can't hide anything.))  
> Inks: (Good to know. I want to crib a bit from kerisgame's format, where you have a lot more implicit latitude for charm use outside of the central roll)  
> Inks: (that is to say, I might propose a stunt that uses XYZ charms alongside the central 'roll')  
> ST: ((Actually, amusingly, ES disallowed Excellency use on Strategic actions on the grounds it made them too dull.))  
> ST: ((Other Charms yes, but not Excellencies.))  
> Inks: (Hmm. I disagree with that, but lemme think)  
> ST: ((Oh, I'm not imposing it here.))  
> ST: ((I might consider it later and we can have a talk about it, but not right now.))  
> Inks: (Okay, so I'd like to start with the Treasury. That's three 1-month Major Actions, and I can do Major +1 Minor for this seasonal interval. I can activate Enduring Daylight Management Techninque for an additional 2 minor actions as well. )  
> Inks: (Would Speed the Wheels help anyting here as well?)  
> ST: ((No, these are the three month actions.))  
> ST: ((Mint, Treasury and Smelting Yards))  
> ST: ((Each will take you a month to audit.))  
> Inks: (Oh, okay!)  
> Inks: (so Month 1 (4 weeks) on Treasury, month 2 on Mint, Month 3 on Yards, am I alloting them correctly?)  
> ST: ((Yupyup.))  
> Inks: (Alright- so if StW works I'd love to use that, divides project time by [Essence +1]. Since a lot of this will involve talking to people, I'd like to use these Actions as training time as well... Majestic Radiant Presence, Irresistible Questioning Technique, Sagacious Reading of Intent... That's 26xp right there.)  
> ST: ((Hahaha. Diabolical of you. Sure, go for it. Though, if you're going to use one of them as training time, it might be best to start with the easiest one first.))  
> Inks: (The Mint, then?)  
> Inks: (Also worth noting that I still have 4 weeks of Major Action tied up with spell research, which will be finished at the end of auditing the mint)  
> Inks: (So with Management Tech, I have 5 minors, allocated into Major Major Minor  
> ST: ((Yup. Okay. Hmm. Stunt in general terms your approach to auditing the Mint and finding out how it works, with Celi riding herd on you. It's located deep down in the Throne tunnels, and is very, very, very well-guarded.))  
> 

  
  
If there was a more fortified facility in Gem, Inks had not seen it. That was what she realized upon being escorted down the Throne Tunnels into House Iblan's mint facilities. Iblan Omar was conspicuously absent, recused for the time being as the audit was ongoing. Celi was a tall, imposing presence at Inks's side, towering over the Solar with a steely eye.

This deep into their territory, no Despotic Edict would prevent the Iblans from escorting them with armed guard. Even so, Inks was the picture of charm and grace. People quickly warmed to her. (Mastery of Small Manners as well, smoothing some ruffled feathers)

Those who did not were confronted by a awesome and terrible display of her majesty and intellect. A sentry, intemperate and bearing a grudge, leveled his glaive at her with intent to maim- only to be stopped by a glorious raging aura of power that radiated off her skin and brow. (MRP)

Caught between those two extremes, of effortless charm, open compassion and absolute intolerance for bullshit, Inks peeled apart the inner workings of the Iblan Mint with a careful, exacting eye.

And while she was being obvious and grand, Tatters crept behind in the shadows, looking at places eyes were not meant to see.  
  


>   
> Inks: (MRP would take like 3 days to learn, I figure I could use it as part of a week long action)  
> ST: ((Okay, right. It's undefended, so there is no opposing roll. (Int or Per)+Bureaucracy; 3 die stunt.))  
> Inks: (yay! Also at some point I'd love to know why these are 3die and whatnot)  
> Inks: !ex 23; Inks: [6, 3, 3, 4, 3, 2, 4, 10, 8, 10, 4, 10, 9, 5, 3, 6, 3, 1, 6, 9, 8, 8, 3] was rolled for 11 successes.  
> Inks: (about dead average)  
> ST: ((And roll 15 dice for Tatters' snooping.))  
> Inks: !ex 15; Inks: [7, 8, 5, 3, 9, 3, 5, 10, 3, 6, 3, 1, 7, 6, 5] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
The Mint was probably the most vital of House Iblan's businesses to the operation of the city, which was part of why Inks started with it. It was where the money came from, the heart of Gem's financial system, and ultimately produced the coinage that was used all up and down the Firepeak Pave, blending with Realm currency as it travelled north until a coinpurse might be more full of Realm yen than Gem's coinage by the time it reached the Lap. 

Day and night the Mint ran, with a private guard force to protect it and an elite hit squad of thugs to respond to forgers. It boasted not only engineers to maintain and man the great presses and accountants to keep track of what was made, but also analysts to check suspect coins and predict economic activity that might shift its required output.

Iblan Bana had put one of her own sons in charge; Iblan Omar. A loyal, browbeaten man in his seventies, who ran the place tyrannically as his own petty kingdom where his control was absolute. He despises forgers, which didn't endear him to Inks from her very first interaction with the House, and that attitude has only worsened. Thankfully, he's out by Despotic decree, so if Inks takes over she'll just need to fill the place that's currently being very badly filled in by underlings who have long since forgotten how to make decisions in the absence of their overlord or without his explicit permission.

Pipera, Inks can't help but think, would love it there. So many things to set in order, so much _control_ over the books and the accounts and the economy of Gem as a whole. But... ah, thoughts for later. Much later.

Sadly, as nice as another blow to Bana's credibility would be; there's no sign of anything Rankar had told her to look for here. Omar is a petty man who takes out his resentment for the way his mother dominates him on his underlings, but he's as conservative and content with House Iblan's place as Bana. If left alone, he'd have been perfectly happy to stay down here running the Mint for the rest of his life. His staff are too nerveless or too apathetic to even consider worshipping fell beasts - honestly, most of them crumple under Inks' intimidating force of personality, some even going so far as to break down crying at the sight of her.  
  


>   
> Inks: (that was really good detail, it hadn't even occurred to me that gem might mint it's coins further out to other regions, and still be legal tender).   
> Inks: (and yeeeah tempted to gift this to Pipera...)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Back at her townhouse, after what felt like months away, Inks settled into her bath after a good meal and a theraputic venting session with Pipera and Vahti. Truly, Omar's behavior alone offended her on a deep, personal level. Enough that she underlined it repeatedly in her report that he was an offense to good taste and business practices. (Celi, understandably, added a caveat that Inks was editorializing, but it was _still true!_ )

Vahti, sensing her boss was about to get worked up in all the wrong ways, took it upon herself to get her boss worked up in all the right ways. It was a relaxing interlude, to say the least.

And Pipera, for her part, seemed to have pulled herself out of the dark and stressful places their brush with House Iblan had sent her. All in all, a good thing.

All in all, the turn of the month and the conclusion of the first phase of her audit has gone well, and things are ticking along nicely.

Which means, of course, that it's _just then_ that Suleiman makes his biannual reappearance in town.

By the time he gets to the manor, he's obviously already heard. He looks better than last time - tired, but not exhausted. He also looks stunned, and upon being let in by Carsa spends a good minute or so just sitting and trying to process the upheaval to his worldview.  
  


>   
> Inks: (dun dun duuuuunnn!)  
> Inks: (when exactly does he arrive, during this reaction scene, or the next day/etc?)  
> ST: ((Let's say late morning, after her reaction and while Inks is preparing to assault the Treasury.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

"Suleiman!" Inks's eyes lit up, and she stood from the table and breakfast, still damp from her morning bath and wearing a gauzy silk robe that reveals more than conceals. Radiating good charm and cheer, she draped her arms over his shoulders as he rose up, and she lifted up on her toes to kiss him firmly. "It's so good to see you!"

"You... beloved, I heard..."

He returns the kiss, of course - he's not _dead_ \- but he's obviously punch-drunk from shock. "I heard... House _Iblan?_ " he manages to finish. "And... and other things, I can scarcely believe them all..."

"It's a long ugly story, but I'm moving through it!" She guided him back to the table, where Vahti was at her cheerful, salacious best. The trader barely glanced at the spirit's emerald green skin, but otherwise accepted the offered glass of water with a nerveless laugh.

"You're welcome to stay here as well. I'm due in for another meeting-" she glanced nowhere in particular, discerning the height of the sun far more accurately than any clock. "In less than an hour. I usually finish after sunset, if you want to have a late dinner.

"My love..." Suleiman seemed to be getting his feet under him, and was now just searching for the right words. " _How?_ How did you come to... they say you're deciding whether House Iblan will live or die! _House Iblan!_ _Why_ would you even begin this? I don't doubt you had cause, but..." He shakes his head in disbelief.

The immediate, glib answer that nearly leaps off her tongue was 'They were in my way'.

Which is true, but not the fullest extent of things. The conflict escalated, and Inks had no small part to play in that happening. She sat down in the chair next to his, and smiled when he took her hand on reflex.

She was quiet at first, thinking. Then she spoke. Explaining as clearly and honestly as she could. That she wanted gold- more importantly, free and open channels of trade and communication between her interests and that of Iblan's. Communication that had been cut within weeks of her arrival due to her own actions.

She thought back to her experiences, the decisions that led her to this point. From using demons to make gems to create starting capital to now. "I've screwed up, a lot." Inks admitted.

"But at the end of the day, I want what I want... and I want to be able to look at myself and say 'I did the best I could. That I didn't give up, and that I didn't give in.'..

"Gods, this is a speech now. I've given so many of the damned things..." She laughed, smiling and shaking her head. "I'm not cruel or hurtful. I do what's best for me without doing bad to anyone else, or as little bad as I can afford..."

Finally she shrugged, trusting him to make his own judgment.

"Beloved... Inks," Suleiman breathed, squeezing her hand between his own. "I don't know what to say. You are as you have always been... but you've risen so high now." He shakes his head in wonder, looking at her with a hint of the way a man might look at the sun - beautiful and glorious, to be sure, but unreachable, and so bright as to be painful to look at directly. "Is there any way I can help you?"

"You're one of the most trustworthy people I've ever met." Inks smiled. "You might think it a small thing, but I think it's great. I'm sure though, that the moment I think of something, I'll ask."

He kisses her, and perhaps - for the moment - that's enough.

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay! Treasury.))  
> ST: ((Stunt ur bunt.))  
> Inks: (Great energy ST, loving it)  
> 

  
  
Much like before, Inks maintained her momentum. Charm and grace backed by iron will and the unwillingness to abide threats to herself or her goals. She captivated Treasury staff in droves while their minders and bosses sought to reign them in, such was her sheer charisma. (MoSM)

Unlike last time however, she was set upon by injunctions, efforts to delay or disrupt her investigation. There was no escaping her though. When she cornered those in the higher ranks, she picked apart their intentions and desires with expert speed and certainty. (Questioning Technique). The very efforts used to stop her became the means of digging deeper and exploring yet more. 

This time, properly rested and appointed, Pipera joined in the audit, calling out for Inks to examine this or that, offering great insights further still  
  


>   
> Inks: (no tatters this time, just a change of pace)  
> ST: ((2 dots, roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 22; Inks: [9, 6, 6, 8, 3, 8, 3, 1, 4, 4, 3, 5, 6, 3, 8, 5, 5, 1, 2, 6, 2, 10] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> Inks: (wow, awful roll)  
> ST: ((Iblan Flickering Gold is using Int 5 + Bureaucracy 5 + Jewel-Angle Accountant Style 3 = 13, and channeling his 4-dot Principle of "Enrich the Iblan Treasury".))  
> ST: !ex 17 ST: [10, 10, 6, 4, 9, 10, 8, 4, 3, 4, 3, 2, 4, 8, 2, 1, 8] was rolled for 10 successes.  
> Inks: (dang)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Ah, the treasury of House Iblan. Richest of all Gem's Great Houses; second only to the Despot himself in wealth, power and influence. And here. Here is where it's rooted. Almost as deep and well-guarded as the Mint - and indeed, with strong ties to it, for three in ten coins the Mint churns out pass through these vaults, and half of those are likely to stay here. The famous treasury of House Iblan.

Inks is _incredibly_ disappointed to find that it is not, in fact, a giant pit thrice the depth of a man, two hundred feet wide and half as long again, filled entirely will golden coins. Which is what street rumours would have her believe.

She wasn't really expecting it to be true, admittedly, but it would have been nice.

No, instead there are many vaults down here with thick doors that guard piles and piles of gold and silver. There are special frames that allow this type of coin or that to be poured in and held within arrangements of rods that mark every tenth or hundredth coin while preventing them from spilling. There are reams upon reams of paper, whole rooms of calculators bent over desks and scribbling as they track inflow and outflow. There are actuaries and analysts and financiers and moneylenders - for while House Trasti controls the banks, they do not hold the monopoly on loans.

Pipera likes it here too, Inks thinks with amusement. She's in her element, scything through the systems they use here and interpreting how they determine what rates to lend at, how they decide good investments from bad, who the responsibilities fall to when it comes to flexing financial muscle in the world outside of Gem.

But unlike the Mint, the Treasury still has its master. Iblan Flickering Gold is that rarest of things; a rival for Inks in sheer, brilliant genius. She'd be reminded of talking to Xandia if not for the fact that he's singularly awful with people; dedicated solely to increasing the profit margins of his House. As perhaps befits a branch house member, recruited some twenty years ago as a child when his intimidating genius became clear.

Annoyingly, despite his social awkwardness, she finds it hard to get a good read on him. Oh, she can tell what he _wants_ \- profit, profit, profit, less for the money itself and more just because he's the kind of mind that obsesses over things and his passion is watching the numbers of what he's been entrusted with go ever upwards. She can cow him when she needs to, play to his habits and eccentricities so as not to set him to sulking or snapping, even get him to answer questions - which he cooperates with easily enough, after she shows off her credentials.

But she can't get rid of the feeling that he _could_ be hiding something. That while it looks like he's being perfectly open about things, he might have hidden who-knows-what away in the centuries-old maze of House Iblan's finances, which are an intimidating enough looming mountain that even Pipera can't hope to go through _all_ of them in merely a month. Inks can't _prove_ Flickering Gold is guilty of anything... but neither can she say with absolute certainty that he's _not_.

Perhaps the most annoying part is that if she _were_ to get married to someone in order to take the Iblan name, he'd probably top the list. He's respected among the house, brilliant enough not to bore her, already respected by the family at large, and probably wouldn't care much if she went off and slept with other people. Either he's not interested in sex, or he's got enough self-control not to react much when she flaunts her assets to him - only when she showcased her _mind_ and business skills did he open up and show honest emotion.  
  


>   
> Inks: (nice)  
> Inks: (so not exactly a failed audit, I learned a lot, but no evidence to prove this man is a bad fit for the job)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (Excellent)  
> Inks: (Last up is the smelter yards)  
> ST: ((Want to react briefly to this?))  
> Inks: (nothing's coming to mind sadly)  
> ST: ((Fair enough.))  
> 

  
  


* * *

It's in the lull period as they go through their strategy for approaching the Smelting Yards that Celi speaks up. She's a reserved woman, Inks has found - an odd juxtaposition to her natural ifrit authority that makes more sense when you learn that she was born an ifrit-blooded human and carried her shyness over into elementalhood. Generally thus far she's been content to follow Inks around, cooperate in the questioning of Iblan employees and house members, and reply only in short tones to the attempts Inks has made to get conversation going. But now, on their way to the foundries, she speaks up - and Inks could swear she sounds _nervous_.

"You are an architect of skill," she opens with a stilted, overly-formal air as they pace through the streets - the Smelting-Yards being the only part of House Iblan's business that are above ground, so that the fires of the furnaces don't devour the air and leave men to suffocate in the tunnels. "And capable of constructing places of power. Your baths are one such place."

"Yes, I am." Inks agreed. "Why?"

The orange light of Celi's skin flickers brighter for a moment, and she glances off to the southeast - maybe towards the manor? - before looking back down at Inks.

"The honoured Despot granted me, as payment for my services, a place touched by fire. It lies a little distance from the city," she says hesitantly. "It is possible to construct dwellings on such places, to channel their power. Sorcerer's towers, or mighty lighthouses, or other such things. My holdings have no such structure."  
  


>   
> ST: ((You can make a very cynical reflexive Wits+Socialise roll at Diff 4 to twig to something subtle.))  
> Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks: [3, 5, 9, 2, 6, 7] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Oh, Inks thinks. Interesting. So Celi owns a fire demesne outside the city, and wants a manse built on it. It makes sense why she would come to Inks for it, and it's not surprising Rankar gave it to her - a demesne and the essence tokens from it are things she can anchor sorcery in, and be more useful... to... him...

There's a niggling feeling in the back of Inks' mind at that thought, and after a moment's concentration it clicks with a sigh. Of course. Rankar is a clever bastard. He gave his pet ifrit sorceress a demesne, which improves her as a spellcaster and obviously endeared him to her given how proud she seems of it.

A stationary demesne, tied to Gem. Which she can't take with her if she leaves. Meaning that as well as a reward and an empowerment, it's also a chain making sure she won't get any funny ideas about leaving him.

"I'd want to spend some time brushing up on geomancy, do a proper survey..." Inks admitted. "But I'd be happy to take a look!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (while we're at it, Soul's Price on Celi)  
> ST: ((Is Inks still committed to dealing with El Galabi?))  
> Inks: (I figure she is, yeah. Depends on how long the survey would take, and having something to practice on both in game and out is fine)  
> ST: ((A survey is fine, but while taking over House Iblan gets you the gold you want for anti-Dead weapons, committing to a lengthy process like manse construction would require you to suppress Conviction.))  
> Inks: (yeah, then Inks's is offering to the survery and the 'pre-vis' work first, but El-Galabi is more important)  
> ST: ((Cool cool.))  
> 

  
  
Celi nods, looking pleased and hopeful, and they continue on their way to the third and last of the major Iblan holdings.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Souls' Price real quick, External Penalty?)  
> ST: ((Oh yeah. -4 penalty.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 -4; Inks: [2, 2, 7, 5, 6, 6, 3, 2, 9, 9, 7, 7] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
> Inks: (juuust squeaked it!)  
> ST: ((Hahaha. Close. I won't bother RPing it, but it's "to feel like she's living up to her father's legacy".))  
> Inks: (gotcha, I'd have to fidn out what her father is/did then! I have the stunt ready too)  
> 

  
  
At the very end, perhaps the most interesting place for Inks (she loved money, but she loved Industry more), was the smelter-yards. Vast caverns set aside for the processing of gold ore, careful thaumaturigcal laboratories and metallurgy experiments. Fomula and more.

She endeared herself quickly to the ground crews by dint of being a gorgeous woman amidst a strong labor culture dominated by unattached males. Then she earned their acclaim by returning one day as a woman of bronze skin, where she made a point to solve a tricky problem with one of their smelters by cleaning out the slag and dross by hand.

And her third public relations coup was treating the sick, the injured and the maimed. Poison from noxious fumes, sickness from gold-tainted tissues, scars from alchemical baths and stranger things aside- all were cleansed under her attention, or at least better diagnosed for other methods of care. 

At lunch hour of every shift, she summoned the labor gangs and crews for a meal, forged of her own sorcerous power.

And through all of that, she learned. Of the advisors and bosses, the managers, up to the Iblan nobles who controlled the smelters themselves.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Using medicine to get in good with everybody, I figure Pipera's not gonna be here either, and I have no Craft NPC Buddy)  
> Inks: ( And still using IQT to get the bosses to fess up for sick bonus info)  
> Inks: (also using Food from the Aerial Table because Hard Workers Hungry Workers)  
> ST: ((Okay, now you're just showing off.))  
> Inks: (Hell yes I am!)  
> ST: ((Alright, _gratuitous use of Sorcery bullshit_ gets you a 3 die stunt, you showboater. Roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 23 +1; Inks: [4, 3, 4, 9, 2, 9, 4, 9, 8, 6, 9, 2, 9, 8, 1, 6, 2, 5, 8, 6, 6, 3, 10] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (you could argue that all this gladhanding is inflicting penalties on the opposition too, because they're finding it harder to convince people to stay quiet around her)  
> ST: ((Point is kind of moot. Int 3 + Bureaucracy 2 + Calloused-Hand Captain Style 3 = 8.))  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: [7, 5, 3, 9, 2, 7, 8, 6] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

  
  
The Smelting Yards of House Iblan. One of the parts of Seventh Scorpion that Inks had never been able to buy up; never been able to _touch_. They're expansive, taking up multiple city blocks, and always at work. The walls are high, with angled stakes pointing down from the top to discourage climbing attempts, and the guards carry firewands and spears.

Iblan Jad Raheem is the boss around these parts, and he's not the intimidating genius his distant cousin is. No, the worker-gangs and slave drivers and smelters here follow him because he's one of them; worked his way up through the chain learning management as he went. 

The mines fall under his authority, and the ore quarried there is ferried up to the great crucibles and melting pots here on the surface. Once the smelters are done with it, it goes to the goldsmiths and silversmiths, the assayers and casters. It's not all physical - the paperwork side of the business is considerable - but the work done here is far more physical than anywhere else in the house, and that's what Jad Raheem favours.

Inks can tell he favours it. Because he's certainly no good at the bureaucratic game. And while he can intimidate with the best of them; this six-and-a-half foot dark-skinned mass of muscle with a miner's arms and a mercenary's stance and a gang-boss's swagger, he's shit at hiding what he wants, too.

Jad Raheem wants tumbaga. He wants orichalcum. He wants shining magical metals and the secrets to making them, because while his forges can produce dribs and drabs of tumbaga, they make it at a loss and that fact _burns_ at him. He wants glory. He wants fame and a kind of immortality that imperishable sunsgold will lend him, and he wants an Iblan on the throne of Gem to see it remembered.

Oh yes, Jad Raheem is one of those throne-hungry Iblans. And he hasn't just been thinking about it, either. It's not so pressing a desire as his dream of sunsgold, which he would happily sell himself for in a heartbeat, but reading between the lines in his books, Inks can tell he's been conspiring with Iblan Ayla to scout out foreign support for a coup, and with Iblan Rose Marble; the Despotic Attaché who mediates between the house and the palace, to learn as many weaknesses in Rankar's defences as he can.

And here lies Inks' dilemma. Because if she gave Jad Raheem to Rankar - one of Bana's crucial keys to power, one of her four most trusted councillors - along with the evidence of what he's been up to, the Despot would pin the man out under the sun or kill him with a thousand cuts for his crimes, and she'd no doubt have House Iblan in the bag.

And she'd also have a Smelting Yard in, as far as she can tell, somewhere between half to two-thirds of open rebellion, discounting the slave labour. His men like him. And if she _didn't_ give him up... why, with her knowledge and skills, it would be so, _so_ easy to win him over. He'd be hers for life if she so much as waved orichalcum under his nose. She could blackmail him with the threat of revealing his preparations if need be - and soothe him with the idea that she meant to take the throne as an Iblan herself.

He's one of the best and most useful tools she's stumbled across so far for her goals - to dominate Gem, to build a mercantile empire, to climb up in the economic world. Pipera is better, of course, but Jad Raheem's connections and position make him a very close second. He's the _perfect_ combination of useful, corruptible and dependable.

And making use of him would be in direct violation of her orders from the Despot.

Damn.  
  


>   
> ST: ((And I think we'll close there, since it's half 11 for me.))  
> Inks: (yeah you really pulled out along session today! Really fun!  
> ST: ((You pleased?))  
> Inks: Very!  
> Inks: we had a bit of a lull at the very start, but the content more than made up for it  
> ST: ((Incidentally, if I didn't make it clear, you are going to need to suppress Conviction to give him up to the Despot when he's _so useful_ to Inks' Motivation.))  
> Inks: That was not yet clear, thank you  
> Inks: How did you feel about me/my playing?  
> ST: ((He's an instant key to power in your corner if you take over House Iblan, and if you get him horribly tortured to death his men may very well mutiny.))  
> ST: ((The problem is that he's a perfect asset for you... who _is_ guilty of exactly what you've been sent to root out.))  
> ST: Yeah, you're good! It was fun.  
> ST: ^_^  
> Inks: i was at my best with the smelting stunt  
> Inks: because i was more able tothink 'what would make everybody like Inks' and was grandly showing off in Solar style?  
> ST: Yeah, that was great.  
> ST: 5xp + 4Sxp + 1mxp.  
> Inks: yaaaay!  
> ST: Did you like the mini-scene "breaks" between the stages of the strategic action, btw?  
> ST: Just to give some variety to the session.  
> Inks: Yes that is good  
> Inks: So at the end of the 1st month  
> Inks: Inks finished with rebuilding Virtuous Guardian of Flame  
> Inks: so now Vahti's the anchor for that spell  
> ST: mwaa haa  
> Inks: So the thing about Jad Raheem  
> Inks: is that _if_ I get him tortured  
> Inks: he becomes a martyr  
> 


	51. Session 51: The Fate of House Iblan Part 2

It's been three months, and Inks has meticulously scoured House Iblan for evidence of corruption and treasonous sentiment. On the plus side, she's found some. On the distinctly minus side; it's a great hanging cloud over a man she rather wants to use. And not (just) in the bedroom.

It's a knotty problem.

The file, unannotated, sat on her table. Inks drummed her fingers against the fine wood surface, imported at great expense and fashioned by her own hand. "Pipera."

"Inks."

"I am going to attempt to convince Rankar that it's in his best interests to _not_ summarily execute two-thirds of House Iblan's leadership..." She explained the basics and pushed the file towards Pipera, letting the other woman leaf through it.

"With the intention of binding many of those nobles to my service and... _redirecting_ their intrigues to more productive ends."

Pipera thins her lips as she pages through the documents. "This... is not going to make him happy, you realize. Iblan Rose Marble has ties to the Despot's own palace that she's been abusing for a coup, and Jad Raheem..."

She closes her eyes in pain. "You want him to work for you, don't you? Are you intending to even give him a lesser punishment?"

"I am abundantly aware." Inks sagged back in her seat, and Maji rumbled from his customary place next tothe baths. "Oh, I plan encouraging a _punishment_. Ethics aside, they deserve it. I just want to argue that they're more useful to Gem alive than dead. And by extension, useful to me."

Lacing her fingers together, Pipera hums thoughtfully.

"... you can do it," she decides after a moment. "Anyone else I would call insane, but I've seen you at work. You can do it. But not in an afternoon. Rankar is paranoid, spiteful, petty in his cruelty and determined to execute those involved in the planned coup as an example. You're going to have to erode that determination. It'll take more than just one perfect pitch, and you'll need to stack the deck in your favour somehow just to make him listen."

"Hmm..." Inks nodded, and a slow grin started to form.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So what I'm hearing is that Pipera is advising Inks to spend several scenes eroding Rankar's relevant principle. Ether the 'petty vindictiveness', or maybe the contextual one of 'Punish Iblan')  
>  ST: ((Yup. Latter.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent. Okay)  
> 

"I'll have to think on my initial approach then." Lacing her fingers together, she reached up and stretched. "So, would you prefer a garter, choker, or hair ribbon?"

Pipera blinks. "I beg your pardon?"

"I've had this idea kicking around in my head for months now, inspired by you no less- Chronicle is a wonderful if... blunt instrument." Inks grinned. "So as a hold-out weapon, for me primarily, I was thinking of an artifact..." She sketched it out on some scrap paper- looking like a cluster of folded silk blossoms and wire filigree. "It might change as I make it, but it's basically a concealed dart fabricator."

"But I'd be happy to make one for you as well."

Pipera's look goes from wary preparedness to close up - which it had assumed at the mention of garters, possibly as a result of getting entirely the wrong impression about Inks' intentions - into sharp curiosity as Inks explains. Leaning over, she examines the design, tapping her finger speculatively.

"I see, yes..." she murmurs. "This doesn't look like it's designed for my darts, though. You have a theme here; it doesn't match the ones I have. Would you be making me a new set?"

"I said fabricator- it _makes_ darts out of Essence." Inks grinned. "But yes, I'd be happy to design it to fit your preferences."

Her aide's eyebrows arch. "I see..." she hums. "In that case... none of the three, I think. A choker or hair ribbon would be awkward to draw from rapidly, and a garter wouldn't be accessible without dressing like you."

That she says the last with a sardonic, teasing air rather than the frosty tones of disapproval is, Inks considers, a sign of how far they've come together since the early days.

"A bracelet, perhaps," Pipera finishes after some thought. "Or maybe a decorative belt?"

"Sounds perfect. I'll put it on the to-do list."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Alright... so mechanics of this rankar challenge: I'd need to use charisma+presence to convince him that cooler heads prevail when dealing with the Iblans... Hmm. I could make the argument that preserving the Iblans plays into 'Stay Despot' principle)  
>  ST: ((Okay, how are you going to set up for convincing Rankar? Pipera mentioned stacking the deck - playing his Principles against him, bribing him shamelessly with a gift, meeting on your turf rather than his, etc. Probably as many as possible.))  
>  ST: ((Declare your set-up for broaching the topic and your general strategy for easing him into it.))  
>  Inks: (Yeah... I'm under the impression this'd take multiple scenes, or one scene of several social rolls?)  
>  ST: ((Multiple scenes. You're eroding a Principle.))  
>  ST: ((Pipera will suggest that arguing for a temporary stay of execution first rather than trying to go straight to "let them off alive" might be less likely to get hard-rejected with WP.))  
>  Inks: (Good idea, thanks. Okay...)  
>  Inks: (so Gift, obviously- invoking Pipera to help there; Inviting Rankar to Inks's townhouse so he can enjoy her baths and oogle her. She will take the time to gussy up as well...)  
>  Inks: (Heh, how strong is his lust principle again 2 or 3 dot?)  
>  ST: ((Pipera makes the fairly easy conclusion that anything that plays to his "Vice (dreamstones and young flesh)" Principle would make a good gift for Rankar.))  
>  ST: ((It's a 3-dot.))  
>  Inks: (And I feel that he has a circumstantial principle of 'Punish Iblan' that is rooted in his more broad 'I am a vindictive man' principle, yes? They're not the same thing.)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (But 'vindictive' is iirc 3 or 4? )  
>  ST: ((She may also have his Conviction to worry about.))  
>  ST: ((The ones Inks is aware of are: Despot of Gem 4, Political Temperance 4, Petty Cruelty 3, Vice 3 (dreamstones & young flesh).))  
>  Inks: (Aye. I'm not really worried about preventing him from Acting, I'm aiming to redirect him. Forward but deflected, not 'reverse course')  
>  Inks: (Oh, perfect, so playing to his vice nulls out petty cruelty, yes?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, the issue is if he's made up his mind to kill them all.))  
>  ST: ((Yes, broadly speaking. But that leaves them equally balanced, so he may listen to one side or the other.))  
>  Inks: (Oh, okay. Hmm. So I'd more want to lean on Political Temperance and Vice, slanting towards my goals.)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: (typing my preparations)  
> 

* * *

After a few days preparation- one of which involved a very interesting experience with dreamstone acquisition- A visit with Sahlak Jannisa let Inks procure not just some dreamstones, but ones staring her and Vahti, as well as a number of Sahlak's finest beauties. Poor Carsa made the mistake of trying one out, and was left in a beetroot red flush for the rest of the day

Part of those preparations included preparing the townhouse- and Inks never turned down a chance to decorate. Borrowing a trick from Rankar's own palace- instead of having different waiting rooms, Inks commissioned or created silken hangings and banners that could be easily changed. The inviting blue of Venus, edged in gold thread changed the open courtyard to a decadent haven of delight

A treat she made a point of sharing with Sulieman before asking him the favor of letting her work and encouraging him to focus on his fleet- "I'm not going to have sex with the man." She told him. "But I see no reason not to flirt when it helps my goals."

Finally, she marshalled her initial arguments along with a fine diphanous gown and flattering jewelry. Affirming Rankar's virtue and political savvy, in the same breath as his appetites... Now she invited the Despot of Gem to her home, for hopefully the first step in her plan...

As it turned out, she didn't even need to speed the wheels of bureaucracy. What with how she'd been investigating House Iblan for him, the Despot was quite happy to clear his morning and visit her luxurious baths to hear her report.

"Rankar!" Inks stood up and grinned- maybe not as wide as normal, this was still a business meeting, but it was one in her strongest place of power. "Thank you for coming. I've some preliminary findings to share, but first..."

Walking the handful of steps away from her dining table towards Rankar and his guards, the dress she wore half-slipped of (by design). "A treat, for you and yours." The surge of Essence was palpable, even to those without the enlightened senses. A number of smaller tables and platters around the townhouse seemed to grow crystaline displays of candied fruits, ranging the colors of the sky at the most brilliant of sunsets.

Popping one of the delectable treats into her mouth, Inks smiled. "And for your trouble with all this, I made a point of having these commissioned." She stopped at another table, where a cluster of dreamstones waited in a handsome wooden frame. "I hope you'll enjoy them as much as I did."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Food from the Aerial Table, because half-naked sorcery is Inksian as all get out)  
>  ST: ((Roll Manipulation+Socialize for your setup. Sun-Queen Admiration applies, as does the second bonus. +2 stunt for how you're playing to his known traits.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +3 "Man 2 Soc 4 +3 style +2 stunt +3 autosux"  
> 

Inks: [3, 5, 9, 2, 10, 9, 9, 6, 6, 5, 5, 7] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.

Rankar's narrow gaze drifts over the decadent blue hangings, the sorcerous food and vices provided for him, the scantily-clad sorceress under his command and the luxuriant baths that await him, and Inks can see that he is pleased. He gives her a pleased nod and the usual thanks as he removes his outer robes and settles himself in, picking out a handful of manna as he slides into the water.

"So," he says; the very picture of smug, self-assured power as he leans back against the sides of the bath. "My trusted sorceress. What have you to tell me about House Iblan? Have your investigations found traitors among them?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Experiment! Sagacious Reading of Intent!)  
>  Inks: (gimmie dat summary)  
>  ST: ((Oooo. Hmm.))  
>  ST: ((Rankar is hoping to gain an excuse to execute a few of House Iblan's more valued members and knock the house down a few pegs.))  
>  Inks: (Nice, writing a response)  
> 

Disrobing fully, Inks smiled with dark eyes and painted lips as she waded in as well. "I think you already know the answer to that. It is related to what I had hoped to discuss."

"The long and the short of it is- yes, there are traitors plotting in the court of Iblan." Inks declared. "I don't yet know the full extent, but I have sufficient evidence to give to you if you demand it." She made a point of pulling the two sticks that held her hair up into it's bun out and shook it free before moving under the hot waterfall.

The cleansing gem on her brow protected her cosmetics even as the water cascaded down her head and shoulders. "Knowing this, I have a suggestion- I would like more time, to dig further into the Iblan's treachery, as well as their virtues. To do this, I think declaring a stay of execution would be ideal. The Iblans would know their days are numbered, and that the sword may yet fall on their neck."

"I wouldn't ask for indefinite stay of exuection- that'd be equally suspect. It'd make you look _weak_." Inks pulled away from the water with a grin, turning to face Rankar in all her glory. "And I'd rather you look strong. Strong enough to crush House Iblan with a word, and strong enough to prove to Gem that you know when _not to_."

"House Iblan deserves to be punished, I absolutely agree. And it deserves to lose the hard-earned power it's accumulated, for the offense of trying to betray the Despot of Gem."

Those dark eyes fix on her. Considering. But not disagreeing, yet. "Who are your current suspects?" he asks, stroking his beard and popping another crystalline fruit into his mouth.

"Iblan Rose Marble and Iblan Jad Raheem, for starters." Inks offered. "My position is such that we have an opportunity here, one worth exploring. A more loyal House Iblan, stronger in all the ways you want, and carefully groomed to be the opposite of a threat."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I'm having to think carefully on my phrasings, and logdive a bit)  
> 

He laughs, which is not exactly the response she'd been looking for. "Indeed," he says. "Indeed we do. Jad Raheem, eh? That doesn't surprise me too much. But _Rose Marble_..."

His face twists in anger, and Inks can practically see the tortures being devised behind it.

"I don't know the full extent of Rose Marble's treachery." Inks noted. "So I stand by my position of 'stay of execution'. She's worth more alive than dead, at least in the immediate future. Consider this also- we know that House Iblan plots against you, but how much do they know of your council? You know where your foe is going, and you can move to counter."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha+Pres vs MDV 11 to sell him on "leave traitors with knowledge of my council workings and routines alive so as to fully root them out". "Despot" and "Political Temperance" are balancing one another.))  
>  Inks: (Oouch, what are my bonuses?)  
>  ST: ((If you can spin it towards aiding Inks' goals as well, you'll drop the Diff by 1 due to the tattoo-influence, you've won his trust enough that he's unlikely to spend WP to resist if you do get past his MDV, and you can freely apply Sexy Stunner Style and its master bonus.))  
> 

"Consider this as well-" Inks added. She moved forward, mindful of the almost crackling wrath that seemed to billow out of the man's head and shoulders. He did not resist though when she encouraged him to scoot forward and let herself slide in behind.

Pressing her front against his back, Inks rested her chin on his neck and shoulder, tantalizingly close to his ear. "I am your trusted sorcerer. I have a great many ways of working. I can be both your instrument in discipling House Iblan, and your shield against their retaliation. I'd welcome the challenge."

"Doing so puts me exactly where I want to be- between House Iblan, and you..."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (How's that?)  
>  ST: ((2-dot stunt, tattoo bonus applied.))  
>  Inks: (gonna channel Conviction- also this counts as Motivation right? So +3 stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: !ex 20 +4 "Mastery of Small Manners for +1 App; Cha 3 Pres 4 Style 3 Stunt 3, Conv 5, +1 1st presence; +4 autosux" ; Inks: [2, 8, 3, 8, 2, 9, 10, 4, 8, 8, 6, 8, 9, 8, 2, 7, 10, 5, 7, 6] was rolled for 18 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Niiiiiice))  
> 

She can feel the tension ease from Rankar's body as she croons to him; the murderous anticipation tempered - though not by any means removed - by years of cautious, hard-won experience. As well as by other, more... pressing, concerns.

"You, mmm," he replied, "make a convincing argument. Very well. Root them out, Lady Inks. Root them out; every tuber, every stem. Let them know nothing until it is time, and then expose them to the light and see that they suffer. I will be watching - and if I am satisfied, you will be richly rewarded."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (SRoI again)  
>  ST: ((He wants her to dig up out any knowledge the coup has gleaned that could threaten him or his reign, and then see everyone involved tortured horribly.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. I'mm not 100% clear if this scene has accomplished my goal of 'eroding his principle towards mass execution)  
>  Inks: (I'm confident I've made some form of progress though!)  
>  ST: ((Specifically, you've got him to delay it. That's a useful shift you can use to then argue him down further to something like "kill most of them but leave the really useful ones alive", and then "maybe just a permanent obvious maiming instead".))  
>  Inks: (Excellent, then I have achieved this initial goal)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  ST: ((Now Jad Raheem. :3))  
>  Inks: (Indeed. Giving Rankar some time to cool off. How... do I want to do this... Decisions decisions.)  
>  Inks: (Writing!)  
> 

* * *

Like before, Inks prepared her townhouse for her next guest, changing out the decadent hangings for more utilitarian decor. Instead of tables and cushions, Inks pulled out the mark of the scholar and academic- carefully positioned as to compliment her while not offending her upcoming appointment.

Iblan Jad Raheem- a rough and tumble character, more at home in the labor gangs than as an administrator, would have no patience for decadence. She brought out the stoutest liqours she'd determiend were his favorites, and politely begged Pipera to stimulate the spirits a bit further. 

At center stage though, were diagrams, composed to please a layman's eye, with the obvious titles like 'Tumbaga Refinement Crucible' and 'Orichalcum Distillation Assembly' - nothing _complete_ , but tantalizingly close.

All that done, she leveraged her authority as auditor and court sorcerer for Iblan Jad Raheem to meet her.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Inviting Jad Raheem here, this is all foundational work)  
> 

* * *

Jad Raheem is a broad-shouldered, muscular man with pale skin - by Gem standards - that's dotted with old burns and scars. Despite being head of the Iblan's smelting yards, he wears the rough clothes of a workman, and his calloused hands are slightly overlarge at the end of his wrists; like spades with too-narrow shafts.

He's not a particularly handsome man, even discounting the general battering he's taken over the years, and even the dressed-down opulance of the manor and Inks' own wardrobe makes him sway back a little. Still, he seems nervous, or eager, or both. Inks' investigation of his businesses included enough dropped hints that he has a pretty good idea about why he's here and what she might offer him, and it's clear that he's desperate for it - like low-ranking members of the family used to be when reporting to her father and trying to make a good impression during their one shot.

"You are not, by my standards, a good man, Jad Raheem." Inks stood up with the poise and grace befitting her nature as an Exalt. "You are by no means a terrible man either. And I think I can work with that."

Dressed to flatter but not to flaunt, Inks's silks hugged her body in a way that drew the eye up to her face, and she locked eyes with him. "I know what you want- and you know it too." She raised a hand out into open air.

Only the sound of air moving heralded its arrival, but there falling out of nothing, point first, was Chronicle. Inks's hand ghosted along the far side before neatly closing around the hilt, and the tip touched the ground with a metallic _ping_.

Sun's Blood. Holy Gold. The Noble Metal. None of those fully encompassed the glory that was true-forged Orichalcum. Hers was not a weapon of mere alloy- no amalgam like Tumbaga or Electrum. Chronicle's edges seemed to shine all their own, and the wide flat of the blade gleamed with the rich warm tones of sunlight.

"Do you want your smelters and crucibles to be famous across the South? Across Creation? To have the Coxati and Chazorite beg for this metal. To have the Realm itself be humbled by what we can do?"

" ** _Do you want Orichalcum!?_**  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so))  
>  ST: ((Technically you don't actually need to roll this, because between Motivation, Principle and sex appeal he doesn't actually have an MDV left.))  
>  Inks: (kek)  
>  ST: ((But go ahead and roll Cha+Pres with Sun-Queen Admiration and a two-dot stunt anyway, since I know you like doing it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 17; Inks: [6, 4, 7, 6, 6, 7, 8, 4, 2, 2, 2, 3, 9, 4, 5, 8, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((... surprisingly low!))  
>  ST: ((Not that it actually matters.))  
>  Inks: (heh)  
>  Inks: (So this trips his Soul's Price too, so Servitude Effect?)  
> 

"Yes," he says hoarsely; eyes locked on the gleaming blade. All else seems to pale and fade into nothing in his eyes - even the stunning woman holding the thing. His shaking hand reaches out to touch the tip of the blade and smooth his fingers across sun-bright metal. "Yes," he repeats. "This metal, this shine... this is the real stuff. You know how to make it? You can show me? Then I'm yours."

He looks up at her, and there are actually tears in his eyes. "I'm no fool," he claims. "I can see where the firedust's lit. You got Bana and Omar kicked; you got plans for the rest of us. But I swear, lady, you show me how to make this stuff and I'm your man; right to the end. No matter what."

"Excellent!" Inks grinned, brighter than her blade. "We'll have to take it slow at first- I have plans for the smelter yards, but I have to finish dealing with the rest of your house and Rankar. I'll start sending suggestions your way within the week though, and maybe we can get the yards breaking even on Tumbaga."

"... and... the others?" he asks, hesitant. "On the Iblan council? Beggin' your pardon, course," he adds hastily, ducking his head. His eyes keep straying back to Chronicle, like it's a lodestone that they can never quite get away from.

"I expect to see them justly punished. Severely enough that Rankar's bloodlust is sated, and merciful enough that they _live to regret it_. I expect there to be a House Iblan by the time all is said and done. A different one, to be sure, but a better one." Inks nodded. "Which means that the more you can give me to cleanly take apart the coup, or to get ahead of it, would help all of us."

She stepped forward, leaving Chronicle balanced and embedded in the floor. Standing before him, she reached up and touched his cheek, pushing him away from the blade for just a moment. With his attention firmly on her, she did the surprising thing, and wrapped her arms around his middle. It was an awkward hug.  
When she pulled away, Inks smiled. "Do you think you can help me with that?"

"Iblan _deserves_ the throne," he grunts, but he sounds uncertain about it. Teetering.

"Make a case." Inks offered. "I've so far seen you all _want it_ , but I don't know why you think you deserve it."

"We're the oldest house in Gem!" Jad Raheem insists. "The richest! The deepest! We _built_ this city! Our mines give it life, our coins give it trade, our steel gives it safety! What's it given back, huh? When's an Iblan ever set its course?"

He's a passionate speaker, and it's clear it's something he believes deeply and fiercely. Inks can't say his words and his outrage don't tug at her at least a little.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((4+2+3 Rabble-Rousing Rhetoric+1 stunt+4 "Iblan Deserves the Throne" Principle=14. 9 successes.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm, you kinda skipped step 2, I didn't get a chance to declare DV. It's fine though, Parry DV's what I gotta use)  
>  Inks: (SRoI again, and if the influence is hostile to my motivation/traits, it's PDd)  
>  ST: ((Oh, that's not "he autosucceeds.))  
>  Inks: (No no I get that, but you gotta do all that stuff before Rolling in step 3)  
>  Inks: (because if I use a PD in step 2, you don't even bother rolling)  
>  ST: ((Oh, fair enough.))  
>  Inks: (So, Sagacious first, is this social influence hostile to Inks's motivation/traits? I feel safe in assuming that her Motivation is 'Become the ruler of Gem' at this point)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, it's not hostile as long as she's decided to take the Iblan name in order to assume control of the House.))  
>  Inks: (Seeing as she doesn't want to take the name yet, I'd count that as aligned against, so PD trigger and she no-sells it.)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough.))  
>  ST: ((So, response?))  
> 

"Hmm... So you feel that House Iblan is under-represented, and that the Despots of history have not paid your family it's due." Inks summarized. "And implicitly, you believe that the way to redress this is by having authority over all of Gem with an Iblan Despot."

He nods. "We deserve it. And you know the Despot's a paranoid do-nothing who's never worked a day in his life."

"A worthy consideration." Inks agreed, tone light and earnest. "I think though you understand that agitating for the throne _now_ , with Rankar rightly furious with you- I saw the man imagining the tortures, plain on his face- I think it's in yours and House Iblan's best interest to... adjust course."

Inks gathered together some of her introductory notes, appending a few more suggestions with a flourish before shuffling the papers together. "Some initial solutions based on my audit of the smelters. I'd need to do a comprehensive geomantic survey to really get your yards working better." She made a point to emphasize that the yards were his- still his. 

"We'll be working together more closely in the future. In the meantime, I have a lot of other things I _must_ get done."

Jad Raheem doesn't quite seem to hear her, because he's looking sallow and grey. "The... the Despot _knows?_ " he chokes out. "About the _coup?_ Not... not just the old hag attacking his pet sorceress, but about the _coup?_ " Panic blooms in his expression like a desert flower. That's on fire.

 

"Of _course_ he knows. _I_ know." Inks frowned. "Which is why he is seething mad and I have been spending the last three months trying to keep him from simply staking the lot of you all out to dry in the desert."

"I've told you because bluntly, if you want to _protect_ your house, you'll help me break the coup in such a way that everyone's happy. Iblan's not getting out of this unscathed, but it's the difference between 'you all die horrible deaths' and 'not'."

Jad Raheem gulps, and then after a longish pause gulps again convulsively. Inks recognizes his expression from Nexus. It's the expression of a man who is facing the promise of everything he might ever want, with the equally certain promise of a horrible, gruesome, lingering death hanging over it. His is the face of a man very much wanting to flee the city, and unable to bring himself to do so.

"I..." he croaks, "I got you. I'll... I'll see what I can f-figure out." From his tone, he might as well be promising to slather himself in honey and take a walk through the streets of El Galabi after nightfall.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Loyalty to Inks and his Motivation is running into the 5-dot Principle of "Survive", because Rankar has done a very, very, very thorough job of convincing the population of Gem that a horrible death for treason is a certainty if caught over the past few decades.))  
>  Inks: (Yeeush)  
>  ST: ((Since KtSP requires 10WP expenditure, "Survive" is losing for the moment, but you've probably exhausted his ability to think about anything other than visions of dread for the rest of the day. :P))  
>  Inks: (Duly noted.)  
>  Inks: (One last thing)  
> 

Retrieving a very large mug of bolstered ale, Inks pushed it into Raheem's hands. Now she was the Painted Lady of Gem, the Twilight Doctor. "Drink."

He did so, mechanically. Taking the mug away from his nerveless fingers, Inks nodded. "Good. Go home, sleep. Work a few shifts with your best crews. Do some fun, hard labor. Come back and take a soak in my baths."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Perception+Investigation to read his emotional state and guess at his likely response, btw.))  
>  Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [5, 1, 5, 5, 10, 9, 6, 7, 5, 3, 6, 5, 3, 7, 3, 6, 9, 4, 4, 2] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

Patting him on the back, Inks sends him off to... well, probably have waking nightmares, but productive ones. She's pretty sure he's going to help her with intel on the coup. The Despot knows about it, and in his mind that leaves cooperation with her as literally the only choice he's capable of making that doesn't have a certainty of a horrible death attached to it. Fleeing the city would entail abandoning the promise of Chronicle -

even if it worked, which frankly Inks doubts. No doubt people have tried it before after unsuccessful attempts on the Despot. Whatever fate she promises might be a fuzzy unknown he can't be sure of, but in the context of the others it's the only one open to him.

When Jad Raheem left, Inks shut the massive doors to her home herself, letting out a sputtering breath as she slumpped against them. Wandering over to another large mug of wine, she smiled when Pipera ghosted out of the shadows. "I have a request. Of you."||

"Go on," Pipera says, amused. "Do you want me to keep an ear on him?"

"...That's a good idea and I would appreciate it if you did, but no. That's not what I wanted." She took a deep swig before setting the mug down and looking at Pipera. "Can I give you a hug?"

Pipera blinks. She seems to consider it for a moment, then turns and walks off towards her room. Inks' heart sinks for a moment, until Pipera looks over her shoulder.

"Are you coming?" she asks. "The main room isn't private."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Session end there! And yes, Inks does get her hug.)  
>  ST: ((Yes she does. ^^))  
>  ST: ((4xp + 1mxp + 3Sxp for flashy food-Sorcery.))  
>  Inks: (Awesome)  
>  Inks: (thanks for running. What'd you think of the session?)  
>  ST: ((I think I was a bit off my game for it; probably due to the break. Next time I'll be more on-form.))  
>  ST: ((You?))  
>  Inks: (Same for same reasons. It was pretty solid though. I did not expect the despot challenge to be broken up the way it was)  
>  Inks: (but it wasn't a bad complication)  
>  ST: ((cool cool ^^)) 


	52. Session 52: The Fate of House Iblan Part 3

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 52))  
>  ST: ((So, I think you wanted to start this off with Inks reacting to Rankar's Price?))  
>  Inks: (Oh yes! For logging purposes, I asked if Inks could have used Knowing the Soul's Price on Rankar at some point prior, and his actual Price was so deliciously inspiring that I had a scene idea that very day-)  
> 

The doors of the townhouse had been cleverly engineered so that her staff could move them with clever use of leverage and finely machined bearings and working parts. When opened, they seemed to almost glide. When Inks was in a _mood_ though...

Pipera was treated to the sight of her employer in fierce mood, her caste mark flaring possibly for no other reason than she wanted to feel the burn of her own soul. Inks pushed the door open with both arms, reminding them all that she swung around an artifact weapon as tall as she was, ignoring the clever levers in favor of brute exertion.

"Inks- what?" Pipera began, but Inks cut her off.

"Bath."

"How did?"

" _Bath_."

Maji seemed to notice her irritation, hopping ot of the pool himself and shaking himself mostly dry before meeting his mistress with a supportive nudge and chuff. Pipera had long since gotten used to the tiger's dominating bulk, so she just danced around while Inks clawed at her dress and ripped it off- tossing the shredded halves aside as she sank into the waters. Gloria peeked out of the little shrine-altar.

Pipera slowly moved over, taking a seat on one of the dry bench-stones. "What happened?"

Inks sighed. "I am a hopeful idiot."

Pipera considers that statement, visibly assesses it, and nods. "Yes," she agrees. "What led you to this conclusion, specifically?"

Settling deeper into the water, Inks sighed again. "I think I haven't mentioned it yet, but I can read people well enough to guess their price of loyalty. Sometimes it's easy like Jad Raheem. Other people have more... abstract prices."

"I was meeting with Rankar about a court-sorceress matter- he wanted to know some of the signs of demon worship so another Hinna couldn't slip by him- and on a whim I took his measure. I hadn't yet."

"Long and the short of it is- the man is so focused on being _the Despot_ , that the price of his loyalty is to be the Despot forever. Immortal, ageless. If I were to provide him with such, I could guarantee his support in just about Anything else... but he'd be the Despot of Gem for all time."

Pipera's fingers drum thoughtfully on the stones surrounding the pool. "And you'd been operating under the assumption that it would be otherwise," she finishes. "What was it you were expecting? Or, no. Better question. What ridiculously optimistic plans has this derailed?"

"I had _assumed_ " Inks said with the tone that her assumptions were in all ways glorious, perfect and faultlessly correct- "That as a man, he was most interested in the _perks_ of the position. Wealth, good food, companionship, and so on. I had _intended_ to arrange for his graceful retirement- setting aside my being Exalted, he's eventually going to pass away."

"Of course, me being me I was gloriously wrong and it turns out he is in fact committed to the idea of power itself. Granted this was something I expected to deal with five or ten years on, not now..." She huffed. "Defaulting to good-faith just keeps disappointing me."

With a slow, long-suffering shake of her head, Pipera pinches the bridge of her nose. Her expression is somewhere between tired, ever-so-slightly fond exasperation and a reluctant amusement at Inks' chagrin.

"For some men, the power is all that matters," she says, her voice cruelly unsympathetic. "I could have told you that. This is the ruthless ragged edge of Creation. Good faith is in short supply out here."

Inks let out a low, agonized groan and nodded. "Well, nothing for it I guess. Just means I'll need to think of something else. Is there anything pressing I need to take care of?"

"No... and yes," Pipera temporizes. "Nothing pressing or urgent, but something you need to start thinking about seriously."

Already dreading it, Inks nodded. "Go on."

Steepling her fingers, Pipera adopts her most professional bearing. "The upper echelons of House Iblan are all but destroyed. Two members of their council of eight deposed, another three convicted traitors who face death or some similarly dreadful fate. "Under the circumstances, and given your role in events, there is no other choice besides you to assume control of the house. But to lead a Great House, you must bear its name. That means either marriage, or a formal adoption. Assuming the former is not an option you're open to..."

"I'm not sure if I want to be part of a family at all." Inks admitted. "I haven't had the best of experience with mine."

Pipera shrugs. She's wearing her accountant face; the ruthless contractor hired up and down the Pave who came in and cut away inefficiencies and unneeded dependencies and told lords and merchant-princes alike what to slash. "Then you need to make a choice. You can have the free and untempered lifestyle of one of the idle rich, relying solely on investments you do little more than own, or you can dive into business and economies and trade and accept the burden of responsibilities and obligations that comes with it. But you cannot have both. This is Gem. An outsider cannot lead a Great House. Frankly, it will be difficult enough getting them to accept a foreigner not born into Iblan at all. And the Iblan name _will_ help you build your empire. It will be one of your most powerful tools - House Iblan's reach is long, and their fame is spread wide and far."

She pins Inks with the pitiless look of a calculator considering an equation. "Do you want your empire, or not?"

Standing in the pool, eyes flashing in the light of the midday sun, Inks snarled. "Damn straight I do."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Well, Inks does have Wise-Eyed Courtier Method, I can start taking social actions promoting the belief that adopting Inks is a great idea)  
>  Inks: (I'm ready to move on to another scene if you are, this was really good.)  
>  ST: ((hang on, getting to the point of this))  
>  Inks: (oho!)  
> 

Pipera nods approvingly. "Then unless you're willing to marry - which I would advise, but I know you will refuse - start thinking about who you can get to sponsor your adoption. Iblan Virtuous Jade is the only one who was there in that chamber and hasn't been deposed - and unfortunately, she is the high priestess who maintains the birth registers and settles legitimacy disputes. _And_ handles adoptions."

She lets that sink in for a moment. "You are going to need a sponsor - or _several_ sponsors - high-ranked enough that she _cannot_ apply enough pressure to keep you out of the House, because she will be well aware of your intentions and she will most definitely be holding a grudge."

"Well then it means I need to make sure enough of those sponsors survive Rankar's displeasure then."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Niiice)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so let's talk month-long actions. Who's doing what?))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so as we discussed prior, Inks is investigating the coup right? I had intended to send Tatters off investigating yozi cults in the area as well. Pipera... Is probably managing Inks's businesses while Inks does the Investigating.)  
>  Inks: (Until you say otherwise, I still have Ajjim, Vahti and Nabijah to task. Can Jad Raheem do anything to support Inks's efforts?)  
>  ST: ((He can.))  
>  ST: ((Okay. So, first off. Pipera is taking an Int+Bur Diff 2 action for managing Inks' businesses at a -2 external penalty due to a certain level of economic turmoil from the shake-ups to the biggest Houses in Gem.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, and you want us to not use Excellencies right?)  
>  ST: ((She's ignoring this penalty with Charms because lol DB, and rolls 4+5+3 Hidden Depths Accountancy for 12 dice.))  
>  Inks: (yay!)  
>  ST: ((Roll it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; [4, 7, 10, 7, 4, 1, 7, 9, 9, 9, 6, 9] was rolled for 9 successes.
> 
> ST: ((Pipera does a fantastic job, and not only keeps Inks' businesses on an even keel but manages to do quite nicely out of all the chaos and tuck a few more under their hat, stabilising Inks' asset base and making it a lot more secure against the inevitable shake-up that'll come when Inks takes over House Iblan and the coup comes to light.))  
>  Inks: (niiice)  
>  ST: ((Meanwhile, Tatters is off hunting Yozi Cults. This is going to be an opposed roll against the cults' defences.))  
>  Inks: (got it)  
>  ST: ((So, Tatters will be rolling Perception 3+Investigation 3, with +3 autosuccesses from being a bullshit stealthy ghost ninja of complete unfairness.))  
>  ST: ((Shoot for the moon.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; [5, 6, 4, 1, 8, 4] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.
> 
> ST: ((Tatters uncovers several basically-not-hidden-at-all cults to the demon lord Vicero, who is also called the Wasteland Khan, among the desert tribes and nomadic clans who frequent Gem as a pit stop, a way to get better weapons than they can make on their own and a place to sell their loot. They mostly invoke him for patronage and blessings in raids.))  
>  Inks: (Nice)  
>  Inks: (plothook for the future then)  
>  ST: ((She also turns up some rather more worrying cults among Gem's miners, which are at about the same level of uniformly terrible at doing so and have mostly been overlooked because nobody gives a shit about miners and thus they haven't been noticed.))  
>  Inks: (oho. And something I can bring to Iblan Aseyna to get her onside)  
>  ST: ((The mine slaves themselves, meanwhile, are too ignorant to realise that the mining-goddess they're worshipping in secret is in fact a poorly-disguised aspect of the demon lord Stanewald, She Who Sermounted the Omphalos. It's unclear if she's actually in contact with them as Visero is with the clans, or if this is just a case of passively being worshipped.))  
>  Inks: (neat!)  
>  ST: ((So, who else? Ajjim, Vahti and Nabijah, right? And Jad Raheem.))  
>  Inks: (Right, Ajjim I wanted to commission an expedition, so big grand gesture of 'Here's a huge bankroll, go hire the help you want, the tools you need. Go out in this general direction and find stuff;)  
>  Inks: (Vahti, I think I'll keep close to Inks for the moment- in fact I'll Train her instead, since I have LSC now. So let's bump her up 5 dots. Let's give her +2 Perception, +1 Int, and +1 Apperarance, and +1 Melee. That brings her to Per 4, Int 4, App 4, Melee 2)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So Vahti is an unrolled action; you Just Succeed.))  
>  ST: ((As for Ajjim, what exactly are you sending him out after?))  
>  Inks: (The plot hooks you mentioned about the river civilization out east of Gem, that Tekutali, Gloria and Hinna's notes all hinted at)  
>  Inks: (Anamranthra, specifically)  
>  Inks: (and the great river Anam)  
>  ST: ((Okay. This... hmm. Might be worth a scene, if you want to find out more about them - because Ajjim is a desert-goer of many years, and may already know something.))  
>  Inks: (let's do it!)  
> 

* * *

Inks happened to catch Ajjim a few days later, trying to get... something, out of his daughter's hair in the baths. It was blueish-black, greasy, smelt incredibly strongly of sandfish and seemed to have gummed most of her coppery-red curls up into a solid, sticky mass.

She seemed less than happy with this state of affairs, and even less happy about having her head repeatedly dunked underwater by her belaboured father. And was letting everyone in the manor know it. At length.

"Ahh- here." Inks smiled, reaching into an alcove for the few soaps and tinctures she used- prototype formulations really, but- "They might work better." Sitting down with her legs in the pool, Inks smiled. "I am considering funding an expedition."

"Ah?" Ajjim asked distractedly, accepting the shampoos. Blue gunk began draining into the water after a couple more rinses, and he sighed in relief. "A thousand thanks, Lady Inks. An expedition, you say? Where to? The Coxati mountains again?"

"The River Anam, and the legends surrounding it." Inks declared. "Anamranthra, specifically. Even just having a decent idea of where the river went would be interesting."  
"Oh oh oh! Can I go can I gllbbhh!" piped up Pesala, interrupted at the end by another rinse. Her tiger-ears stood upright and her whispers fluffed out as she glared at her father in indignation from behind sodden locks.

"Anam, hmm," Ajjim muses thoughtfully. "I don't know about Anamranthra, but if you mean the Pillars of Anam, I know them. Anyone who goes out far enough past the Scar does."

"Oh?" Inks cocked her head to the side. "What are they?"

Ajjim puts his daughter through one last wash/rinse/dunk cycle before letting her escape; her hair mostly clean again. He shifts up onto one of the underwater seats carved into the side of the baths, assuming a meditative pose.

"It's said that once there was a great river to the east of Gem," he explains. "If you believe the stories; the hungry desert beyond the Scar was once endless fertile plains, and the greatest of rivers that flowed through them and fed them was the Anam. But it was lost in the time of tumult and burned away when the mountains spoke fire, and now all that is left are the pillars. They are... ah, what is the phrasing..."

He gestures to the obelisk at the centre of the baths. "Like that," he says. "Only bigger. Much bigger. And carved, not rough and natural like that is made to look. They stand in lines for hundreds of miles along the course of the old river, and all who walk the Desert know their names and use them to navigate. Some are smudges on the horizon, dark patches in the brightness. Others have settlements, trading posts, fires built atop them - lighthouses under the stars. Without them, there would be no desert travel. Those who went out would be lost."

Humming, Inks reached into the water to play with the rippling surface, mulling in both Ajjim's description and the centerpiece of her bath- the black jade stone that constantly created and cycled the waters of the bath, replenishing them as it purified the users...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Neat!)  
>  ST: ((Inks might want to ask how _much_ bigger, because if they're all pure black jade....))  
>  Inks: (I'm gonna actually do an int+occult roll to divine their function, at penalty likely due to 2nd hand knowledge)  
>  Inks: (but seeing as this is Not a strategic action, Inks can go all out~)  
>  Inks: (Difficulty/Penalty, please~?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Is she going to do it with just that, or thoroughly cross-examine Ajjim about the details?))  
>  Inks: (hmm, the latter, lemme add that in)  
> 

... As she contemplated, she continued to query Ajjim about the particulars- how big the pillars were, their dimensions. Any of the carvings he remembers, the language they used- likely Old Realm, but if they were of Shogunate Make, the might've used one of their enchantment dialects instead...

Vahti, in the middle of her own studies, noticed the discussion and fetched some paper for Inks to draw out a diagram.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (There, stunted properly!)  
>  ST: ((Int+Occult, Diff 3, -4 external penalty reduced from -6 by his info.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +5 -4; [8, 6, 6, 1, 6, 1, 7, 9, 8, 4, 6, 5] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold 2!)  
>  Inks: (this btw is a good example of a roll where applicability is important- Inks is deriving a conclusion based on secondhand information, which we can assume is reasonably accurate, but not Complete either.)  
> 

Inks learned several things over the course of her relentless cross-examination. First among the things she learned was that there was apparently an _inconceivable fucking fortune_ in black jade sitting out in the deep desert, because if Ajjim wasn't lying to her - and he wasn't, she checked - the least of the spires was _ten metres high_ , and the highest he'd seen was four times that or more. And there were _dozens_ of them.

The sheer unspeakable value in the raw materials alone made her mind stutter. It was... well, it wasn't more money than was in all of Gem, but it represented an impossible fortune nonetheless. Alas, harvesting it would - as Ajjim said - essentially render navigation of the deep desert impossible, as well as destroying the settlements that had sprung up around those pillars that had formed oases similar to her baths from moisture condensing off the jade.

The other things she learned were less jaw-dropping. She learned that there were marks and symbols carved into the sides of the pillars, though Ajjim couldn't describe them with enough detail for her to tell to which god they were dedicated. She learned that each pillar had been named by the tribes and societies that depended on them, and that the names were always related to water - whether it be the mighty, forty-metre-high spire of Thirst-Quencher, the small and lonesome Dripping From Cactus that Ajjim used as his first reference point when coming from Gem or the black rod named Blood Dripping On Sand in the middle of the barbaric town of the same name.

And she deduced - though by her own merits, gleaned from Ajjim's words and descriptions - that she was probably listening to the description of some kind of manse. Or rather, a manse network. Whether a work of the High First Age or the Shogunate, the Pillars of Anam had each been a manse that drew from and tended to the Water essense of the great river Anam. Perhaps they had controlled its flow and kept it from escaping its borders. 

Perhaps they had been responsible for it existing at all; maintaining such a great river in such an arid desert environment.

She couldn't be sure - but she knew with a sinking feeling that they were all dead now. With the Anam dried up and the dragon lines scattered by chaos, the manse-pillars had lost power, and now they were nothing but inactive relics - yet despite their fall, they still nurtured and provided for many who would surely die without them.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (vniiice)  
>  ST: ((Inks deduces that they were each manses - designed as nothing but obelisks, with no habitability or anything - that were linked together in a network along the Anam with some function that most of their points were probably spent on.))  
>  ST: ((She also deduces that in the absence of a fuckoff huge river along their course; they're virtually all dead now.))  
>  Inks: (So ostensibly Inks could probably salvage a bunch of them, and replace/repair/re-purpose the important onces. Or if she were crazy-awesome, restart the Anam River)  
>  ST: ((If you want to include her, Gloria has been listening more and more intently during this explanation.))  
> 

Finishing her now substantial stack of papers and notes, Inks smiled. "This is even better than a travellogue.." She looked up to note a tiny, fiercely intent face peering out of her little shrine home. "Gloria? Is everything alright?"

"The pillars..." Gloria murmurs. "I remember the pillars. They gleamed in the light, and... and prayers passed along them. To me! To my bathhouse! I knew when important people were coming, because they'd follow the river up, and the water would herald their arrival!" She scowls at Ajjim. "Those aren't their names, though! Nasty, filthy names! You can't call them things like that!"

"Do you remember their original names?" Inks wondered.

Gloria's eyes mist over, and she frowns, struggling with something. "I... it was..." she mumbles, tensing with effort and screwing her eyes shut. "The... the something that... of..."

After a moment longer, she sags, defeated. "No," she whispers sadly. "No. They won't come."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Flawless Diagnosis, medically relevant Y/N?)  
>  ST: ((N))  
> 

"Well, maybe Ajjim can give us more information- are you up to mounting an expedition like I asked?" Inks turned to the tiger-man with a grin.  
He cocks his head. "What would be the aim?" he asks. "Trade, as with the Coxati?"

"I'll go I'll go I'll go!" yells Pesala, splashing around in excitement by the thought. "I'll talk to them all like Inks did and they'll give me presents and I'll get to see the desert like Papi does!"

Inks laughs. "Exploration, primarily- unless I've vastly misread your skillset. Go there, record whatever you see with these Pillars and other histories of the region." She smiled down at the tiger-girl, but shook her head. "You'll get to have your grand adventures, but not today Pesala."

"When the time comes, you'll have a roar that shakes the heavens, but until then- you'll want to help your papi right?" At Ajjim's cautious nod, she smiled. "So right now, the best way to help him is by staying safe. Not bored and swaddled!" She clarified with a laugh.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So, hmm. These aren't a lost relic; the Anam settlements are the waypoints of the largely nomadic clans that live out in the Desert, and are a major feature of the Desert used for navigation. There's trade of sorts between them and Gem, to an extent. So, hmm. You're sending him out for, what, detailed notes on them? Stuff like the exact carvings on them, the histories of the settlements, that kind of thing?))  
>  Inks: (Right, that was the plan, and by extension any ruins of prior age settlements that might have intact vault sof artifice or similar. Sorcerious lore too- they're MANSES, after all, magical know-how ought have congregated around them)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay, so Ajjim's got - remind me, did you train him, or was it just Pesala?))  
>  Inks: (both of them)  
>  Inks: (iirc they got +2 per and +2 int and +1 Occult)  
>  Inks: (that was way back in like session 20 or so)  
>  Inks: (Let's call my line as)  
>  ST: ((Cool, so he's rolling Int 4 + Investigation 2 + Desert-Roaming Scavenger 3 with a +1 bonus from familiarity and contacts in the region. Base Difficulty is 1, thresholds dictate how much he brings back.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10; [10, 2, 2, 3, 10, 4, 10, 3, 8, 3] was rolled for 7 successes.  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((holy shit))  
>  ST: ((Three 10s wtf))  
>  ST: ((Okay, uh, I... guess I'll draw up a thing of the region for you by next session.))  
>  ST: ((Wow.))  
>  Inks: (Appreciated!)  
>  ST: ((And yeah, he comes back with a shitload of stuff.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, so that just leaves Jad Raheem and Inks herself. He can act as an assistant to her INVESTIGATIONING if you want.))  
>  Inks: (yeah, seems simplest)  
>  Inks: (can I stunt or do I just roll?)  
>  ST: ((You may stunt. You're focusing on details of the coup, right?))  
>  ST: ((Then you're rolling Int+Investigation as an opposed roll against the conspirators. You get a +4 autosux bonus from Jad Raheem, but he didn't know everything, so you still need to roll. Your Difficulty to beat - their defensive roll - is 8 successes.))  
>  Inks: (correct, and got it)  
> 

Inks found herself in an interesting position- of simultaneously wanting to dissemble a conspriacy againsti the Despot of Gem, while simultaneously preserving as many members (the most useful at least) and securing them to her side. To that end, Iblan Jad Raheem was incredibly useful, getting her metaphorical foot in the door so to speak.

From there, she quickly and efficiently took the measure of any and all the remaining and relevant Iblan nobility- and made a point to lean on Raheem to meet with Asenya and quietly pass her some information about the yozi worshippers in her mines- and a pledge of support as a one engineer to another with regard to the upkeep of the mines and related industries.

Best-case, Inks would have the groundwork of support in formal adoption by House Iblan, and enough information to present to Rankar that she could sweet-talk him into her plans over his own vindictive streak. No pressure.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (stunt/other bonuses?)  
>  ST: ((2-die stunt.))  
>  ST: ((And a mysterious future bonus/opportunity of mystery))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +4; [6, 10, 8, 5, 1, 8, 4, 7, 5, 1, 6, 2] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (success by 1, whew)  
>  ST: ((Nice.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, do you want this OOC so you can move on to a Rankar scene where you tell him this in your own words and make your pitch, or shall I go through it IC?))  
>  Inks: (hmm... I think we can do both scenes IC, so let's do it. I feel good, plans are progressing!)  
> 

It looked, Inks decided after a month's hard work, like she'd caught this early. Relatively early, at least. The coup was mostly in the planning stages at present, and hadn't yet taken direct action or finalised their strategy.

From what she bit-by-bit put together, Ayla had been rounding up support outside Gem - she'd made outreaches to the deyha clans of Cahzor, the martial artist killers-for-hire of Pangasutri White-Eyes and even some of the barbarian raider-clans of the Anam. It didn't look like the talks had gotten very far, but the picture painted just by the records Inks could find was one of Gem boxed in on three sides by foreign muscle.

Perhaps it was uncharitable, but Inks severely doubted the greedy idiot had seriously considered what would happen if - or _when_ \- any of the occupying forces declined to leave.

That was the external. Internally, Iblan Rose Marble had an honestly _distressing_ amount of information on the palace. Guard schedules, what small patterns existed in Rankar's inconsistent and paranoid routine... even things like which slaves he was especially cruel to and what guards would accept bribes. There were a myriad of ways Inks could see to set up an assassination with this kind of intel - and, a tiny voice that sounded remarkably like her mother whispered in the back of her mind, there was nothing technically stopping her removing a few bits and pieces from the documents before showing them to Rankar, if she showed him at all. At the very least, burning that list of names would probably spare quite a few guards and slave girls whose only crime was wanting a comfortable life or being often-abused by a petty tyrant from painful deaths.

Jad Raheem's place in the coup was less defined. He had no particular place in the coup itself, but would be primarily useful in the aftermath; as a rallying point whose men could sway public opinion and act as a bridge; trusted by commoners for their class yet also unshakable in their loyalty to him. His control over the Smelting Yards meant that he had, if not the most vital part of Gem's economic engine, at least one of the flashiest and most recognizable.

It looked like they'd been intending to back him up with Iblan Kahlil's thugs and legbreakers, but nothing Inks could find indicated the coup had approached him yet. When Inks questioned the man, he scoffed at the idea and claimed - truthfully - that he'd never support a coup against the Despot. But whether that would have been true before it was caught and defeated... well, there's no clear way to tell.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (niiice)  
>  ST: ((Inks' reaction?))  
>  Inks: (writing)  
> 

Armed with useful information, Inks called Pipera back from her glorious economic successes to help her prepare and pose the investigation in a way that would best suit Rankar's sensibilities. She tacitly omitted a number of... not innocent names, but quietly kept them out of the report.

"Well-" Having more fully registered the extent of the rebellion, Inks smiled. "Most of the awful stuff is on Iblan Rose Marble and Iblan Ayla. Everyone else is somewhat complicit insofar a 'we like what this can do for us', but there was a certain sense of..." She waggled her hand.

"They had not fully thought this through." Vahti finished for her. The Flame Duck hugged Inks from behind while Pipera drafted a few suggestions for phrasing the case to the Despot.

Inks nodded. "Pretty much. I'm pretty comfortable with giving Rankar Rose Marble and Ayla. The other conspirators need to be punished, but I think I can argue mercy for them." Trusting Pipera to complete her suggestions, Inks made arrangements to deliver her findings to Rankar.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Inks is concealing enough of the guard/slave information as to protect them from Rankar's pettiness, and then invoking Pipera to help her finalize the proposal for 'Punish these Iblans with This Sorcerous Stuff.')  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. Where's she going to try to give this to Rankar?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. I don't want to repeat myself from last time, do you have any suggestions, or I could roll to figure out an advantageous approach?)  
>  ST: ((Mostly just an aesthetic thing tbh. Your baths, his throne room, some other place in the palace - or, heh, you could be cheeky as hell and hold it on Iblan ground. Possibly even in their sacred hall.))  
>  ST: ((Assuming all the statues don't all start screaming at you again, I mean.))  
>  Inks: (... I got an idea...)  
>  Inks: (writing!)  
> 

It took some doing- working closely with Tatters in her skillset as an exorcist, to gather the materials and knowhow needed to approach the ancestral powerbase of House Iblan. As far as Inks's opinion went, she had no issue with benign ancestor cults, and was mindful to state that she was more interested in keeping in the interests of the dead focused, instead of extending outwards into Creation proper- an opinion that slightly thawed Pipera's initial dismay.

The most important element of the treaty was blood, so Tatters said. Escorted under guard to the Iblan ancestral hall- the same place she had fought and survived- Inks approached and heard the statues begin to rage. Drawing Chronicle, she cut both palms with barely a wince, and knelt down on bloody hands before the spirits of the Iblan House.

Her purpose- the preservation of the Iblan name- maybe not as they were, but enduring all the same. Her blood seemed to be wicked away, sucked into the tiny gaps of the gilded tile that lined the vast chamber- still scarred by her sorcery some months past.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Cha+Occult I think, or maybe Perf, modified by blood sacrifice.)  
>  ST: ((Nice. +2 bonus and 2-dot stunt, Cha+Perf, Diff 3.))  
>  Inks: (Channeling Compassion for +3d, as I have no Performance)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; [4, 7, 4, 8, 5, 2, 5, 6, 4, 7] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (...wow, glad I did that)  
>  ST: ((Yikes))  
>  ST: ((Still, a pass is a pass))  
> 

The hollering quietens, the ancient oaths and curses peter out. A rustling susurrus of whispers and murmurs in dusty, tomb-echoing voices remains at the edge of hearing, but the hall admits the woman it last turned against; apparently convinced that she is - for now - aligned with their vigil.

>   
>  Inks: (nice, writing the intro for Rankar)  
> 

With those preparations complete, Inks pushed the obsidian table back into position, mending the cracks with the palm of her hand. Some time later, when their schedules aligned, Inks invited Rankar to the halls of the Iblan Ancestors, to speak of their fate and her findings.

Some inspired soul pulled out the funerary shrouds, black silk that hung from the rafters and framed the pillars. They seemed to move, stirred by some unseen, breathy wisper. One that grew louder as the Despot's party approached and entered. Ink's hands were bandaged, even if the cuts had long since faded to barely remembered lines.

The whispering and murmuring from above grew louder and more insistent as the Despot's party drew near - for here was a man who certainly wished ruin to House Iblan. But it did not explode into hollering and shouts as it had when Inks had come - perhaps due to the lack of Iblans in the chamber, or maybe due to Inks' appeasement of the spirits of the statues.

Rankar came flanked by two of his sorcerers - Celi and the water god Seventh River who Inks had had little contact with - and a host of guards besides. He was making no effort to conceal his impatience and desire for something to punish, his countenance grim and businesslike, and he seated himself at the sacred table of the Iblan council as though he had every right to it and more.

"Speak your findings," he said, dark eyes glimmering in the golden light. "What have you uncovered of this coup?"

"That it is far less along than I had originally feared." Inks spread her findings out on the table, Pipera's coaching and their rehersal for this day showing through the ease of the motion.

"Iblan Rose Marble and Iblan Ayla are guilty. Of this I have absolute certainty. They deal with foreign powers who would bleed you out of spite and envy. They also are guilty of heinous lack of foresight, likely not realizing the allies they seek would simply _not leave_ once the riches of Gem are open to plunder."

Inks presented a list of notable Iblan personages. "Of the remainder, their involvement was largely tacit approval or simple backroom dealing. 'We would approve if it works'. Something that merits due punishment, but we have options."

Her dress was cut for business, but her arms were bare, and when she crossed her arms under her breasts as part of the pitch, the designs helped draw the eye. "Those are my findings- what follows is the penalty.

"Mmm," agrees Rankar with a hum, the casual sound belying the utter hateful fury in his eyes as he flips through the pages. "Yes. Being staked out under the sun won't suffice. Something special... something _public_..."

He's focused enough on Rose Marble's punishment that Inks thinks he's half-forgotten she's there.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+invest to glean why he's so invested in Rose Marble, I should still have an EDM profile as well)  
>  Inks: (So -4 external penalty on this roll if any applies)  
>  ST: ((MDV 4.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; [8, 6, 8, 3, 6, 1, 3, 1, 8, 3, 10, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

It's betrayal, she thinks with a wince. He'd trusted Rose Marble, insofar as he trusted anyone. He'd relied on her. And she'd used her knowledge and her position to draft a plan - an extremely _good_ plan - to murder him. Oh yes, Rankar was furious beyond any talking down. It was a good thing she hadn't tried to save the attache, and... Inks winces again. Her death would not be kind. Or quick. No doubt another ghost would be added to the Underworld below Gem soon, with horrific marks of her death on her corpus.

And this probably wouldn't do much good for Rankar's paranoia, either, even if Inks would mostly dodge his rise in snappishness by dint of having revealed it to him. A cold, cruel, calculating man he might be, but he was still a man, with a man's feelings - and a hurt like this would scar.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll Compassion~))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; [7, 2, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  ST: ((Inks is noooooot feeling good about how that woman is going to die.))  
>  ST: ((Suppress or try to talk him down.))  
>  Inks: (thinking)  
>  ST: ((If you give her up, you'll be able to use his focus on her to distract him from the rest of them.))  
>  Inks: (I am aware)  
>  Inks: (Suppressing)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so while he's distracted thinking of horrible, horrible tortures to inflict, Inks can make her pitch and use his distraction.))  
>  Inks: (writans!)  
> 

As much as she hated leaving her to her grisly fate, Inks knew that Rose Marble had made her bed a long time ago. She decided the greater good would have to do.

"If it would please you, I have considered a sorcerous form of punishment- a kind of cruel mercy-" She emphasized the former word over the latter. "I would need to research and develop it, a mark of your disfavor, something that shows all of Gem that you have been _offended_ and that your patience and magnanimity both have limits."

She went on to describe in broad strokes the proposal, mostly so that the other court sorcerers would not get too involved in the developmental side of things just yet. A binding mark, one that would punish disloyalty with pain- something that could not be easily removed and plain for all to see.

"If you would permit me the time to develop this punishment, I will serve as the instrument as well. House Iblan will _kneel_ before the Despot of Gem, knowing what you _could_ have done." She paused, wryly noting. "And if they persist in angering you again, you can execute them."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Manipulation+Presence, MDV 7 brought down to 6 by Principles.))  
>  ST: ((2 dot stunt.))  
>  Inks: (sexy stunner Y/N?)  
>  ST: ((N))  
>  Inks: (man 2 per 4, +2 stunt, +3 autosux, +1wp)  
>  Inks: !ex 8 +4; [1, 7, 2, 10, 10, 3, 4, 8] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
> 

"This mark," he muses, still focused on the papers detailing the assassination plans. There's at least no immediate negative reaction to letting them live, which is a small weight off Inks' mind.

It's removed by his next words: "It would let me cause them pain with a word? Upon command?"

"I would not allow such a thing, no." Inks declared just as quickly. "Both morally and pragmatically. Having such a power under your control would _break Gem_. The great houses would rebel against you _instantly_ if such a thing were made and enacted. 'What if he does it to us, we didn't do anything? What if he just does it because he can?'

"Better that the punishment be impartial- cruel in it's penalties, and likely even cruel in it's application- I expect such a thing to be a memory quite literally burned into their bodies and minds- but something that people _learn from_ , instead of rally against. The kind of dire sorcerous leash you want would inspire a dozen coups even more brazen than this one."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This is intense, I love it)  
> 

He raises an eyebrow. "This would not be on the great houses, though. Merely those proven traitors. Who I may already have killed at my slightest whim. This would be merciful." He nods thoughtfully. "A binding brand that can cause pain... Celi?"

"Such a thing would be possible, my lord," she nods. A glance from Rankar to Seventh River gets a nod from him as well - along with a very unsettling smile.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (hooboy)  
>  ST: ((did you forget he wasn't solely dependent on Inks to make the spell for him?))  
>  Inks: (No, not 'forget', per se.)  
>  ST: ((So...))  
>  Inks: (typing!)  
>  Inks: (Who's in the room right now? Rankar, Guards, 2 sorcerers?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (This is tough, thinking)  
>  Inks: (having fun though!)  
>  ST: ((We're nearly done with this scene/the session.))  
>  Inks: (I am aware, this is basically the last exchange)  
> 

"Then at the simplest." Inks stood, her bandaged hands pressing down on obsidian table. "If you seek my assistance with this spell's development, then know what I will and will not allow. If you do not... then that's on you and your council."

Rankar raises a dangerous eyebrow. "What you _will allow?_ Is that a threat, lady Inks?" Celi tenses at his words. So does Seventh River. So do the guards, because one thing nobody present has forgotten is what happened the last time a force of soldiers attacked this woman in this room.

"A warning, as impartial as I can make." Inks declared. "One offered in good faith, as I strive to do in all things. Because I will not be the foe you find waiting for you in the dark. I'm not that sort of gal."

"Instead I urge you to remember that you are one of the wisest Despots Gem has ever known."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hmm. Cha+Pres against MDV 7.))  
>  Inks: (stunt?  
>  ST: ((3 dice for being ballsy enough to backtalk the Despot of Gem.))  
>  Inks: (cha 3, pres 4, +7 from 1st presence, +5 from conviction, +3 stunt, so 22 dice total)  
>  Inks: !ex 22; [1, 6, 10, 6, 6, 2, 1, 1, 5, 3, 3, 4, 10, 7, 4, 1, 6, 10, 9, 1, 8, 3] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> 

He regards her for a long, long moment, his fingers tracing over the documents that spell out Rose Marble's treachery. His sorcerers glance between him and the sun-chosen across the table. His guards stir nervously with a rattle of armour, and the musty whispers from above form a shifting background of murmurs in the silence.  
And then the moment passes.

"Dismissed," says Rankar softly. Whether Inks has truly gotten through to him or not, she cannot say. She's made him think, and that's all she can accomplish for now.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (yesssss)  
>  Inks: (feels so good)  
>  ST: ((End of session))  
>  Inks: FUN!  
>  Inks: smiling, so hard right now  
>  ST: ((4xp +1xp for awesome RPing +4Sxp for solving problems with NEW SPELLZ + 2mxp))  
>  Inks: Gonna have to really think about a solid solution for Rankar though.  
> 


	53. Session 53: The Fate of House Iblan Part 4

Rankar left the ancient hall of House Iblan first, and the unsettling murmuring from above settled to a whisper as he and his sorcerers and guards stomped out. The murmurs dropped to almost nothing, before rising again. They felt more pointed now. Directed at her once again.

As she went to leave the echoing space of golden walls empty once more, one word drifted down from the ceiling; hoarse and raspy and somehow sounding like the texture of ancient paper and the colour of old bones and the musty scent of dry, closed catacombs.

She didn't recognize the word. It sounded vaguely like Firetongue, but whatever dialect it was in was so old that time had rendered it unintelligible. Still, she memorized it all the same, and paid her respects as she left.

She got maybe two corridors away before a sharp mewl from floor-level demanded her attention, and something cold and vaguely damp without being at all wet brushed up against her ankle.

Inks blinked and looked down, shivering faintly but not otherwise dismayed. "Hello there..."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Most intriguing- sounds like Tatter's cat...)  
> 

The ghostly little kitten that seemed to be Tatters' familiar looked up at her, mewled sharply again, and scurried off down a different branch of the corridor than the one she'd been following. It paused where the hallway began to curve, looked back at her, and mipped impatiently.

"Hold on, I'm coming." She cocked her head and took a breath, aligning herself along the medians and paths of thought that let her speak to Maji and others. "You're a clever little one, aren't you?" 

Inks: (Friendship with Animals Technique, if it applies)

Another mip, this one more impatient. Apparently, death got in the way of the natural living essence that let Inks make herself understood to the beasts of the earth and sky. It seemed to be trying to get her to hurry, hastening ahead as fast as its little legs could carry it - which was remarkably fast, actually - and pausing only when it started to get out of sight to mewl at her.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll Dex+Athletics for how fast Inks follows it, assuming she hastens.))  
> 

Picking up speed, heels clicking against the tile and paving stone, Inks moved with purpose. Down the corridor, until her strides stretched out into a sort of bounding heel-toe hop. The corridors were flat and smooth, with the rare curve and incline, and she struck those to take the corners.||

>   
>  Inks: (Graceful Crane Stance, Hurrying)  
>  Inks: (Autosux on balance checks if applicable, other GCS bonuses)  
>  ST: ((Your penalty from ridiculously impractical shoes is negated. 2-dot stunt.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; Inks: [5, 3, 2, 10, 7, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

It was a reasonable distance through the Iblan halls - and past several members of the house who stared in confusion or in a couple of cases shouted at her to stop before being passed and ignored - before the kitten reached a door among the noble quarters that looked more or less like the thirty or so doors they had passed in the last two corridors, and vanished through it. When Inks tried the door, she found it unlocked.

Inside was a lavish apartment that looked pretty typical for a high-end living space by the standards of what she'd seen of the Throne tunnels, a pool of vomit on the floor, and the prone body of a woman.

Wait. No. That wasn't just any woman. That was...

... that was Iblan Rose Marble, Inks realized with a sinking feeling. Looking not very healthy at all.

Letting out a wordless sound of shock, and a grateful look at the phantasmal kitten, Inks hurried- cursory diagnosis told her what she already knew. A quick check of her airway, vital signs... Her heart beat hard but slow in her chest- she _knew_ how to handle this...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Med via Flawless Diagnosis, 5 minute mode. Do I get full diagnosis, or partial w/ lead?)  
>  ST: ((Are you using the instant version first?))  
>  ST: ((That is, the Y/N medically relevant one.))  
>  Inks: (Well, she obviously looks medically ill, but sure, first activation: "Is this medically relevant?")  
>  ST: ((Yes. :P))  
>  ST: ((Okay, Inks starts her 5-minute action; hold on...))  
> 

"It's poison," said Tatters, and Inks almost leapt out of her skin. The woman was just _there_ ; suddenly _present_ where she hadn't been before. The room had been empty but for Rose Marble's unconscious body; Inks would have _sworn_ it... and then, without anything changing, Tatters was sitting cross-legged in the shadowy recesses of an alcove. "She took it fifteen minutes ago. The vial smashed when she fell. I hit her in the stomach to make her throw as much of it up as possible."

"Did you _see her_ take it?" She started looking around for the vial itself- an unadulterated sample would help-  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Flawless Diagnosis returns confirmation - she took a horrible little cocktail of mostly-organic venoms laced with one or two mineral toxins that combine to make a fast-acting and mostly-painless unconsciousness-to-death brew.))  
>  Inks: (Crafty Observation Method)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [4, 2, 8, 8, 2, 8, 2, 9, 10, 9] was rolled for 7 successes.  
>  Inks: (I think I find the vial and anything else cool in 5 seconds)  
> 

A quick glance around located the vial - smashed, as Tatters had said, but there were a few drops of the stuff still clinging to the glass fragments. There was also a letter on a side-table that was scrawled in a hurried hand, and while Inks couldn't read the whole thing from her position by the dying woman, she could pick out the word "Despot" and "coup". Things start to become clear.

"I didn't realize what it was," Tatters said miserably, confirming Inks' guess. "I was keeping an eye on them in case they tried to strike back at you, and she got a letter and... she didn't seem surprised. Or scared. Just calm. She read it, got up and locked the door, read it again and then got the vial from her drinks cabinet and downed it in one swallow. I only realized what she'd done when she staggered and fell."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay, so I don't have the 'heal poison' Charm, can I do anything to stabilze her? Call for Iblan medics? If I can buy her time, I can get her back to Inks's townhouse and the baths.)  
>  ST: ((So, Anointment of Miraculous Health can buy her time by giving her extra health levels. Instant Treatment Methodology and Wound-Mending Care Technique could fix the damage, but only with appropriate tools - which include a synthesised antidote to the horribly lethal combination toxin she drank.))  
>  ST: ((Before all that, however.))  
>  ST: ((I am going to require you to make a Compassion roll.))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [5, 1, 5] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  ST: ((Because Inks is aware that if she heals this woman of the mostly-painless death she chose, Rankar is going to horribly torture her to death.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, her Compassion isn't going to fly up in the face and _force_ her to act. What will she choose to do?))  
>  Inks: (I had a very Kerisian thought but it requires a spell I don't know and likely can't get in the time required- short version is arranging for a body double of Rose Marble via Disguise of the New Face)  
>  Inks: (I.E. get a corpse, make it look like her, give the corpse to Rankar...)  
>  ST: ((Can Rankar horribly torture a corpse?))  
>  Inks: (No, but it would let Rose Marble 'die' on her terms. At the same time it would also make him pissed at House Iblan as a whole for denying him someone to torture)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Inks sighed. "She's choosing to go out on her terms... but this might hurt House Iblan more than she intended or expected. Rankar..." Her scowl darkened.

"Why does everyone always start with _death_." Inks groaned and moved to help the woman.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Gonna stabilize her with Miraculous Health, but I'm still figuring out if I'm gonna let her go completely. I want to read that letter first.)  
>  Inks: (I'm having fun for the record, my slowness is mostly in deciding how to RP this)  
> 

Rose Marble didn't look any _better_ after Inks flooded her chakras with bolstering sunlight to take the brunt of the poison's teeth, but she at least stopped declining as she had been while Inks was diagnosing her. Leaving her in a more comfortable position on the rich fur rug, Inks had a look at the letter.

It was, as she'd picked out from a distance, scrawled hastily on paper torn by desperate, fumbling fingers. In rushed language that didn't bother with a cipher, it explained that the Despot had been alerted to the coup and that Jad Raheem had been flipped. Inks didn't think the man himself had sent out a warning, but... well, he'd looked pretty ashen-faced when he'd stumbled off on that first day, and he'd been helping her work through the details of the plan. Apparently, someone still loyal to Rose Marble had noticed, and got word to her.

It was unsigned, ending with a paragraph that stated rather ominously that 'the path out of the city was closed' and that 'the way was shut to them'. She got the feeling the 'us' it mentioned meant the members of the coup in particular, but she couldn't say that she'd known of any backup plan of retreat or hidden exit that had been in the plans Jad Raheem had shown her, so either the Despot had been walling off secret tunnels without telling her or she was missing something.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Gonna roll int+investigation, my guess is that Iblan Ayla was the way they were gonna get their nobility out)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; Inks: [10, 4, 3, 5, 8, 6, 1, 10, 6, 8] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((I mean, Inks doesn't really have enough data to make a guess right here and right now. Hmm. Although...))  
>  ST: ((Mmm, okay. Hang on.))  
>  Inks: (That's fair! Partly why I'm not excellency boosting just yet)  
> 

"What will happen to her?" asked Tatters from her alcove, and Inks jumped again. She'd half-forgotten the woman was there, and okay, seriously, she had to be doing that actively somehow. There was no way to just _disappear from thought_ like that without magic of some sort.

"I'm not sure." Inks sagged in place, noting that Rose Marble at least looked more comfortable now, if still slowly expiring. "If she dies, we lose all that makes her, Her. And Rankar loses the primary target of his rage- which likely means he'll take his wrath out on the greater House Iblan."

"And you," Tatters noted grimly. "For not saving her."

"If I save her, then she gets horribly tortured. One life put to terrible death?" Inks sighed again. "And that! Yeah, good catch. Any sort of moral and ethical calculus I can think of says saving her is the most... net gain strategy, but it doesn't _feel_ right. And this comes back to _Rankar_ behaving the way he does."  
  


>   
>  ST: !ex 5; ST: [1, 2, 10, 2, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

"Well you can't turn her over," says Tatters with the terrible simplicity of a desert storm. "So if the problem is the Despot, deal with him."

Inks is abruptly reminded that this is the woman who brutally murdered three people for compassionate reasons, and who was stopped cold by a raksha's threat to harm innocents. While she's been mostly well-behaved in terms of brutally murdering people since Inks cornered her, that's more because Inks asked very nicely and promised to clean up the city than because she's actually changed much.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Lulz)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  Inks: (How long does Rose have before she succumbs, hours, days?)  
>  ST: ((So, if she'd taken the whole dose rather than being violently gut-punched into throwing up, she would have been dead by the time Inks arrived.))  
>  ST: ((The fast-acting venoms were action- and minute-duration, but Tatters got rid of enough of them that Inks' extra health levels rose the rest out.))  
>  ST: ((She's now down to one or two health levels above dead, and her body is being ravaged by the longer-term mineral toxins with intervals of days.))  
>  ST: ((So for the next few hours she's in slow enough decline that she's functionally stable.))  
>  Inks: (Thanks)  
> 

"...Okay." Inks stood up with a deep, steadying breath. "If I'm going to protect House Iblan and deal with Rankar, I'm going to need Iblan behind me first..."

"You should probably conceal yourself again.... Actually- see if you can send Pipera down here, while I get things started...."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay, before I stunt properly, just a kind of outline)  
>  Inks: (Inform the House of Marble's attempted suicide-cause right now it looks a bit suspicious. Then get moving on a meeting with Iblan Asenya- I think we can segue that pretty easily from here ? The rough idea is that I need her backing to more firmly take the reins and unify the front against Raknar's actions....)  
>  Inks: (My thinking is that even with their star falling, House Iblan has significant political capital that can be leveraged in other houses which can in turn also stifle Rankar's plans.)  
>  ST: ((So regarding Rose Marble, you're going to take her back to the manor to treat her there? And... are you explicitly planning to not hand her over to Rankar, or is it more a "I'll decide what to do with her once she's not going to die" sort of thing?))  
>  Inks: (I figured I wouldn't even leave the Iblan complex, considering how dire things seem to be. My plan is about 80% 'Not hand her over' and 20% 'decide when she's not going to die')  
>  Inks: (I'm more than pleased if things aren't moving THAT fast, townhouse is good and all that)  
>  ST: ((Ah, cool. You mentioned your baths, so I was confused.))  
>  Inks: (meta-wise, I'm trying to keep focused so these scenes all segue neatly into the Climatic Resolution of House Iblan Arc, instead of meandering)  
>  ST: ((Okay, yeah, Inks alerted quite a few people on her sprint to the room, so there'll be a few people coming round trying to figure out where she went soon. Tatters can go off and inform Pipera by blending into a shadow and presumably not being in the room anymore Inks can't actually tell. Stunt away. :P)  
> 

When the first Iblan citizens pushed their way through the door, they saw Inks, kneeling on the floor with an obviously ill and pallid Iblan Rose Marble resting, if not comfortably, on her own bed. "I hate to say this, but it's not what it looks like."

Easily deflecting accusations with the obvious evidence- the vomit, the letter, and more and more newcomers having the proceedings kicked up the chain, Inks carefully navigated the social and hierarchical mess that an Iblan Noble's attempted suicide kicked over.

Pipera arrived, Maji in tow ("The Tiger Insisted."), and they both cut a path through the winding corridors and flowing tides of people.

With Rose Marble stable, for the moment, and the assurances that Inks could and would treat her when circumstances permitted, she sought out the most important meeting of the day, if not her life thus far: Iblan Asenya.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Are you using any charms?))  
>  Inks: (Likely, Mastery of Small Manners and Speed the Wheels, and excellencies if they apply- nothing else really applkies)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4 "Speed the Wheels"; Inks: [2, 4, 4, 2, 7, 6, 5, 9, 4, 4] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> 

* * *

It took a few hours, but eventually her message made its way to the ancient woman and got a response. Inks was led through a vaguely recognizable path to a medium-sized room, two walls of which were entirely dominated by a vast, dense tapestry depicting the Iblan family tree. The writing of the names was fine enough that it must have been done by a single needle with delicate gold thread.

Retracing her steps in her head, Inks realized that they weren't actually that far from the ancestor hall. In fact, if she guessed right, the corridor outside this room probably led along the side; with the doors opposite being the hidden ones that guards had poured in through. This must be some kind of high-security conference room for when the gigantic cavernous space full of vast pillars and golden walls and whispering statues was inconvenient or just too much gaudy wealth display for even an Iblan to stomach early in the morning.

Iblan Asenya entered about ten minutes after Inks had been shown in, and about eight minutes after her discovery that the tapestry was _magical_ and _responded to touch;_ catching her in the middle of dragging names and lines of descent out of the way to get a better look at the recent history of the house's leadership. She was still startlingly small; wispy and frail despite her legendary reputation, with thinning white hair and washed-out skin that had long since lost its rich, mica-flecked granite hue.

She did not have the two-foot-long hammer she'd been carrying last time they'd met, which was something of a relief. Settling into a chair with a sigh of relief, she folded her hands together, looked at Inks with slate-grey eyes, and waited.

It was a little disconcerting. Despite her physical shortcomings, despite her age, despite the fact that she was just sitting there, she somehow radiated the looming presence and immovable patience of mountains.

Fascinated and not at all ashamed, Inks quickly traced a handful of branches, watching the thread wind and spin around, sometimes diving through the weave and weft of the tapestry in defiance of physical law to render itself. When Asenya entered, Inks coughed once and smiled before taking a seat.

"If you haven't already been told, you have a minor but present yozi cult to the demon Stanewald, growing amongst the mining crews." She offered the information freely, before seguing into her next point. "House Iblan is facing the wrath of Rankar, and I'm going to blunt it. To do that, I need your help, and the support of House Iblan itself. How can we make this work?"

"I'm aware of the cult; you had your young dragon fill me in," Asenya said, her thin voice a little above a whisper. "Now slow down, girl. What do you need my help _with?_ Politics and I parted ways a century before you were born."

Inks nodded, smiling as she took a seat. "House Iblan is... useful to me, and I seek to point it in productive directions. Better mines, Orichalcum, an economic titan that elevates Gem even higher in esteem... But I need authority- _legitimacy_."

"And the easiest ways to do that are marrying into the house, which I'm just not interested in, or seeking adoption, which will be _opposed_ without sufficient backing from within."

"My goal is manyfold, and the priorities have been shifting a bit- originally it was to secure House Iblan's assets and skill in my campaign to retake El-Galabi. That's still on the table, but in the immediate- I want to stop Rankar from abusing his authority, and to ensure House Iblan survives him in some form. To do that, I need the _power_ House Iblan can provide."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Are you using any charms, btw? Mastery of Small Manners ensures you understand her basic motivations as if you'd rolled 3 sux on a mundane Investigation roll to guess her motives, which I will give you the readout for in a moment. Anything else?))  
>  Inks: (Cha+Presence, probably to convey the pitch. I could use instant expert intuition on Asenya, if she has a Style that would benefit Inks, or make up one on the spot of 'Manage House Iblan'  
>  Inks: (I don't really have any other Charms that are applicable yet, most of it's defensive tech, not action)  
>  ST: ((You have Courtier's Eye and KtSP.))  
>  Inks: (Dur, thanks)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  Inks: (Using them both sure)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4 "Courtier's Eye"; Inks: [5, 1, 9, 10, 2, 9, 9, 1, 1, 7] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Note that it just gives me ESS autosux)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4 "Soul's Price + 2nd Invest"; Inks: [1, 1, 4, 9, 1, 3, 4, 4, 9, 7] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Does that beat, her man+soc/2?)  
>  ST: ((It did indeed. So.))  
> 

Asenya heard her out with that same stone-like, immovable patience. She didn't seem very enthused. Inks could feel her wealth - not as ridiculous as the weight of the entire House behind Bana, but still a formidable sum from a lifetime of savings and a high salary as head of the mines. Her total authority over the mines of Gem was there as well; solid and stony without crack or flaw. She needed only raise her voice or bang the floor and guards would flood the room, for they were in the heart of House Iblan's power here, and she was more valuable to the Despot than Inks herself was.

>   
>  ST: ((Resources 5 as a running salary, and she can make Res 6 actions with her stockpiled wealth that she rarely bothers touching. Influence 5 (Mines of Gem). Backing 5 (Despot of Gem). Followers 3 (mine-slaves). Right now she has as many allies as she needs from the Iblan territory they're in.))  
> 

But for all of that, her attention was very... limited. Very focused. She cared about the mines; her focus was on them. She knew she was coming to the end of her lifespan, and she was mostly concerned with finding a suitable replacement for her position - one who would, like her, manage the mines as a neutral party unbeholden to anyone and with no loyalties beyond the geology below - for Asenya could gainsay even the Despot on that subject, and he would listen. She had no time for grand campaigns outside Gem's borders, and Inks' plan to assault a Dead city she remembered the rise and fall of as a passing thing of recent history was nothing to her.

>   
>  ST: ((Her Motivation is "Care For The Mines of Gem", and her price is "Guarantee A Worthy Successor" - which to her, crucially, means someone without other loyalties; eg "if it's someone who Inks has flipped into being loyal to her, they won't qualify as neutral enough to meet Asenya's standards". The mines have to be independent of Gem's ruler and even House Iblan's head, or else the foundations of Gem are fucked on a very literal level.))  
>  Inks: (Interesting)  
>  ST: ((That is to say, "the actual physical integrity of the foundations that support all the tunnels" literal. :P))  
>  ST: ((Fucking up the mines risks most of the underlevels of Gem collapsing into a bunch of giant sinkholes that are also shadowmines.))  
>  Inks: (Right)  
>  ST: ((So she kind of has a point about them needing to be able to say "no, fuck off, we're not mining there even if it's in support of all your goals and you really want to and your campaign will fail if we don't" to the local person in charge.))  
> 

"Do you want the shadowmines cleared out? Sunlight captured in gemstones, for your miners to carry into the darkplaces?" Inks offered aloud. "Do you want strong tunnels, and well-trained geologists and geomancers?"

Asenya considered it. "The shadowmines serve a purpose," she said after some thought. "Sealing them would require careful thought. But the rest, of course."

Purpose? That's an interesting thing to say... Probably the ancestor cults, Inks noted. "Well, I can provide those. I am a sorcerer, artificer- I do a lot of things, but above all else, I value _design_."

"I may not be... neutral like how you want me to be. And I don't know anyone like that either. Not yet. But I believe in the practical and the soluble. Your authority stems from the reality that mining in the wrong place can destroy Gem. To me that's obvious- a given. You don't do it unless you know _with absolute certainty_ that you can. And if you aren't certain, it's not worth it."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This isn't really a pitch to be her successor, so much as explaining her position and beliefs)  
> 

The old woman regarded her for a moment, then nodded approvingly. "Truth," she said, and Inks recalled being hauled up in front of her and the Despot and Celi - gods, so long ago now - to be questioned about the Sun Market seller's death. Asenya had searched her words for truth then, too.

>   
>  ST: ((Progress made~))  
>  ST: ((Keep up the momentum and make your pitch for what you want and what you'll offer.))  
> 

Inks thought about it, long and hard, studying the woman before her as she mulled on her own assets. Pipera and Maji waited by her side, insightful and steadfast, supportive.

"I would offer training and healthcare. Sorcerous automatons, elementals- possibly demons if practical." Inks drummed her fingers against the table, smiling. "Tools and techniques that make the mines and mining safer, more productive. Machines and artifice..." She drew herself up and looked Aseyna in the eye. "I want your support, to secure the name of Iblan and authority within the house."

"If I am not your successor, I would still be a voice who supports your ideals and works to see them carried out. I am not so greedy as to rip the very floor out from under me to have just a bit more money."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha+Pres, 3-dot stunt for an ambitious pitch that's perfectly tailored to her goals and drives.))  
>  Inks: (I could channel Inks's... principles here as well right? Not just her virtues)  
>  Inks: ('Everyone is willing to talk if you're reasonable' and/or 'My values are the world's, both at 3 dot, or her Motivation of 'Claim Gem' at 4-dot?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. But you can only channel one Principle or Virtue for a given roll.))  
>  ST: ((So Conviction would be best for this, since it's highest.))  
>  Inks: (Yeah, but I  
>  Inks: (think I'm almost out of conviction channels)  
>  ST: ((Ah, fair.))  
>  Inks: (3 dot it is)  
>  Inks: !ex 20; Inks: [3, 1, 10, 8, 5, 6, 8, 1, 1, 3, 8, 1, 7, 9, 1, 3, 8, 8, 6, 7] was rolled for 10 successes.  
>  Inks: (Ded average)  
>  Inks: (five 1s, yeush)  
>  ST: ((wow, lol))  
>  ST: ((Still, yes, heh.))  
> 

The deathly silence of the stone caverns and tombs under Inks' feet rests in Asenya's bones as she considers, perhaps turning the words over for truth in her head. There's nothing rushed about her as she thinks; she's as slow and unhurried as the movement of continents and the rising of plateaus. Fitting, Inks supposes, for someone who's whole job depends on careful consideration before taking any action.

"Very well," is all she says in the end, but an agreement is an agreement, and Inks feels her heart leap in her chest. The backing of House Iblan's eldest and most respected member is no small thing. "Talk to that young boy in the treasury before you take action. And find me a dragon of earth to teach before I die."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice! By young boy I assume Flickering Gold?)  
>  ST: ((Yes. React with however Inks feels for getting a great ally on-side for this. :D))  
> 

Rocking back on her metaphorical heels, Inks stood tall with a wide, shining grin. The _relief_ and flush of success seemed to shine out, and the mark upon her brow seemed to flare out of it's own accord. She doesn't bother with platitudes- Asenya likely had her fill of them decades ago.

Instead, she bows at the waist, and speaks simply. "Thank you for your time and consideration."

* * *

The Treasury turned out to be far less effort and far less time to get into. Inks checked on Rose Marble again - still more or less stable, but declining slowly from the mineral toxins in her system - and then pretty much just walked up to the treasury and knocked. Flickering Gold had apparently left orders for her to be let in if she turned up, and she was ushered in through the great enchanted doors, past the halls of calculators and the libraries of records and the complex sorting engines, to his cloistered office.

It was bare and functional by Iblan standards, with no homey touches, very little extravagant wealth on display and only the bare minimum of what was needed to do his job. Flickering Gold himself was in his mid-thirties, with a shaved head and a slim, slightly gawky build that made him look a little like a oversized, elongated nodding doll. He glanced up from the tallies he was checking as she was shown in, and his eyes fixed on a point just to the side of her face.

"What?" he asked bluntly. It wasn't impatience; she'd picked that up over the course of investigating the treasury with his cooperation. It was just a complete lack of any social grace whatsoever.

Taking a moment to evaluate him, Inks nodded. "I would like your support in pursuit of Iblan's name and authority." Before she jumped straight into the pitch, she took his measure.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (nice!)  
>  Inks: (Courtier's Eye and KtSP)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4 "Courtier's"; Inks: [2, 7, 9, 2, 10, 5, 10, 1, 8, 3] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4 "KtSP, Diff 1, subtract his [man+soc/2]"; Inks: [5, 2, 10, 2, 3, 1, 5, 4, 5, 10] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

It surprises Inks a little to find that he's not actually that wealthy. Oh, he commands a respectable wage, but he doesn't have any fantastic savings banked, and she's reasonably sure he must have argued his own salary down from what it could be - probably to just the level he needed for his preferred lifestyle, to save the Treasury from a wasteful expenditure of any more than necessary. He seems like the type. He does have considerable authority over the vast treasuries of House Iblan, and as one of the few surviving members of its eight-person council he can draw on considerable stature, but he's still not the political powerhouse she might have expected if she was meeting him for the first time and had modeled her assumptions on... oh, say, Iblan Omar before he was demoted.

>   
>  ST: ((Resources 4 wage, Influence 4 (House Iblan Treasury), Followers 2 (treasury staff), Backing 4 (House Iblan), doesn't consider himself to have any allies present.))  
>  Inks: (Nice)  
> 

As to what he wanted, that was much simpler. He wanted to do his job. He wanted the treasuries of House Iblan to grow, and to be put to order and to function as a smooth and well-oiled machine. And he wanted to be left alone to accomplish that without being dragged out to parties or events or public showings. Or, indeed, political matters. He had a seat on the council, but Inks doubted he particularly enjoyed it unless it directly involved Treasury business and it let him get his way.

She'd picked up last time she was here that he was rather more profit-focused than Bana and Omar's conservative, stability-first viewpoint liked, and Inks didn't doubt he had proposed more ambitious investments, growth ventures and schemes that they'd nay-said based on perceived risk - both in the potential for failure and the potential to upset the status quo.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Motivation is "Optimise the Wealth and Prosperity of House Iblan". His Price is basically just a boss who leaves him alone, gives him free rein to manage the treasury without sticking their nose in, and who doesn't require him to do People Stuff.))  
> 

"In exchange-" Inks calculated the phrasing as well as her offer in the the few moments it took for her insights to filter through her mind. "I would offer you my support in pursuit of profit and success, for House Iblan and Gem as a whole."

"This would include an agreement that plays to our strengths, yours and mine, as well as other specialists on an as-need basis. You run a well-oiled machine here, but I'm certain you would appreciate new innovations and potential opportunities for investment, yes?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (OOC chatter aside, I like how this exchange is coming off lightning-fast and blunt)  
> 

Unlike Asenya, he thinks about it only for a moment. "Adoption?" he asks. "Virtuous Jade won't like that."

He says it more in the tones of someone who has memorized it as a fact than as a person who actually knows the old priestess well enough to guess her opinions on things.

"No, I imagine she won't- which is why I've already spoken to Aseyna about this, and now you." She crossed her arms under her breasts, more out of habit than any expectation that his eyes would drop down on open invitation-

"Removing her as an obstacle, or ideally, securing her backing somehow would solve a great many problems..." She trailed off, letting that particular silence speak for her. "So with you and I- do you find this proposal equitable, or shall we re-negotiate?"

"Mm. No, that works," he says, looking back to his paperwork; apparently satisfied by the invocation of the most ancient member of his House still living. "I'll support it. You can go now."

Nodding, Inks left with about as much gratuitous thanks as he demanded- none. But she was smiling all the same.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So I have the backing of Asenya and Flickering Gold. Do we take this to Virtuous Jade and the surviving Iblan councils, and see if Inks can get her name?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. Well, more accurately, Inks now waits for House Iblan to offer to adopt her, and graciously accepts, and tries not to be too smug while Virtuous Jade grudgingly adds her to the family scrolls in case the old lady decides to try and stab her out of spite.))  
>  Inks: (Ooh, even better!)  
>  Inks: (...Can I apply Speed the Wheels to that process?)  
>  ST: ((Lol. You can, yes.))  
>  Inks: (writan)  
> 

A quiet word in a few more ears has the desired effect- after more firmly stabilizing Rose Marble, things begin to move rather quickly....

>   
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4; Inks: [1, 3, 7, 1, 2, 2, 5, 7, 2, 8] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (logically Virtuous Jade would try to stop this, but I think I can beat her pool)  
>  ST: ((Virtuous Jade is indeed throwing her full dicepool behind trying to delay it as much as possible, which is (Int 2 + Bureaucracy 3 + Sacred Temple Scroll Style 3 + "Preserve The Iblan Ways" 4) for a pool of 12. Unfortunately, this is not quite enough, and the -6 external penalty isn't quite enough to cancel out Inks' cool magyckz~))  
>  ST: ((That divides the time by 5, yeah?))  
>  Inks: (yeah)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So generally there's a season-long review process before an official adoption into the House can be offered. Inks bullshit cuts that down to two and a half weeks. Which means that while she's waiting, she can decide what to do with Rose Marble.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... Does anyone in House Iblan have higher authority over Rose Marble, than Rose Marble herself?)  
>  Inks: (Like an elder or superior officer, or someone Rose Marble respects)  
>  ST: ((Well, the head of the family would have, but you deposed her. :P))  
>  Inks: (Fair enough, if no one else is around that can qualify, I'll just do it on my own- so here's what's going to happen, do you want the outline or just for me to stunt it straight out?)  
>  ST: ((Wasn't finished.))  
>  ST: ((Hang on.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, sorry1)  
>  ST: ((In Bana's absence, the most senior member of the family for internal matters is probably the head of the family temple, who has precedence for being an acting guardian to the recently orphaned until they're placed with someone new, as well as other family members in a position of flux.))  
>  ST: ((Which would be one Iblan Virtuous Jade.))  
>  Inks: (Lulz, as I expected)  
>  Inks: (Okay, stunting- Treating Rose Marble, waiting for her to wake up, and then using Irresistible Questioning Technique to get some more answers out of her- and making arrangements for another euthanasia attempt- Inks isn't going to let Rankar have her, but she's going to try and provide other options once she's got her answers. )  
>  Inks: (ready?)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

It was no small challenge to properly treat Rose Marble- formulating an antivenom and blood-cleansing agent from the Iblan apothecaries was an interesting experience all in and of itself, as well as procuring a number of pain-relieving tinctures and other narcotics.

The treatment however, went quickly and elegantly, with Inks bolstering the woman's health until she shook off the last of the poisons. She deployed Pipera in a delaying action, to ensure that few people looked close at how much time Inks was spending behind Iblan's metaphorical walls.

So that left Inks alone with Iblan Rose Marble, and she waited for the woman's eyes to open.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, hmm. Roll me Int+Medicine at Diff 5 to treat her, with a -3 external penalty from the damage that got done before Inks got there and hit her up with phantom health levels.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +5-3 "Treatment roll + 2nd Med."; Inks: [5, 2, 4, 7, 9, 7, 2, 7, 3, 9] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((Oooo, _nice_.))  
>  Inks: (So that was 5 +5 -3, so that's 7 sux total, and then Wound-Mending Care + ITM for health level recovery)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +5  
>  [1, 1, 8, 7, 7, 5, 2, 8, 10, 4] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (I think she regains all her HLs)  
> 

The woman came slowly back to drowsy awareness; confused and hazy from the drugs and the... okay, fairly understandable surprise at being alive at all.  
Moving slowly, with all due grace, Inks hummed softly. "Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"||

"... tired," she slurs, eyes not quite focusing right. She's obviously not remembering things right, or she'd be panicking. "Sick. Sore."

"I'm sorry, but I'll need to ask you a few questions now." Inks's voice took on a particular character, a quality that slid in and _hooked_ one's attention, moreso than even her arresting looks or fantastic body art ever did. She felt Rose Marble's focus shift. "You were sent a letter- do you know who it came from?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Irresistible Questioning Technique, RAW/RAI is that it's a scenelong that makes it so people are compelled to answer truthfully, but I still gotta beat MDVs to make them talk)  
>  ST: ((MDV 5, currently running at a -3 penalty from DRUGS and DROWSINESS and BASICALLY ONLY JUST HAVING WOKEN UP AFTER NEARLY DYING.))  
>  Inks: (Attr/Ability?)  
>  ST: ((Charisma))  
>  ST: ((+Investigation))  
>  Inks: !ex 8 +1 "Flaring caste mark for 2m/action"; Inks: [9, 2, 3, 6, 5, 5, 1, 1] was rolled for 2 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Ouch, that didn't work, i'll try again in a bit)  
>  Inks: (To save time, we don't need to itemize all her reactions, I can include them in my stunt,okay?)  
> 

Frowning, Inks watched her initial query sail over Rose Marble's head. "Okay- let's try that one later..." She carried on- as far as interrogations went, she was gentle and encouraging, insightful and reassuring.

But even so, some of the questions are harsh and terrible, no matter what Inks tries. "What is your relationship with Rankar?"

A muffled answer, and then another question- "Explain to me your place in Iblan's coup against the Despot."

More fear and rising dismay. "Who else conspired against him."

Lastly- though Inks already knew the answer or near enough- "Do you want to die?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay- for the sake of speed, I've asked the major questions0  
>  ST: ((Okay, gimme a general Cha+Inv roll against MDV 2 for the lot.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8 +2; Inks: [5, 1, 1, 6, 4, 4, 5, 6] was rolled for 2 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (wow)  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((how are you rolling this terribly))  
>  Inks: (can I get a stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, true. 2 dice.))  
>  Inks: (Wait, I have a style too! for investigation)  
>  Inks: !ex 4; Inks: [1, 10, 3, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

The story comes out, in slurred answers and between confused frowns and complaints about lingering nausea and dizziness. Iblan Rose Marble was, to Inks' surprise, a conservative. Or at least, she fell on the side of House Iblan that generally wanted stability above profit. She'd joined - indeed, spearheaded - the coup alongside Ayla because she thought Gem would be safer and more secure without a petty madman at the helm - and, yes, alright, also because she wanted the power.

But mostly it was because she hated the man. Hated the way he looked at her. Hated the way he indulged his petty cruelties and vices without heed to the consequences. She didn't oppose him for the sake of the slaves - she didn't care as much as Tatters - but Inks was powerfully reminded of her own furious opposition to how her family had operated. They hadn't been _bad_ at what they did, objectively. It had just been petty and smallminded and so far short of what they could have been.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks incidentally estimates she's Compassion 2 - opposing the suffering wasn't a motivator for her compared to the rest.))  
> 

Rose Marble's task had therefore been to assassinate Rankar, and it was a job she'd thrown herself into. She'd tolerated his obvious appreciation of her body, she'd gained his trust - insofar as Rankar trusted anyone - and she'd planned exhaustively and extensively for how to murder him in the seat of his power.

It was Inks' last question that seemed to punch through the fog she was answering from and restore a little clarity to her awareness. She blinked slowly, and the expression of dazed confusion she'd been wearing slipped into one of blanching horror.

"Ancestors," she breathed. "Oh, gods and forebears, you... you bitch. You _doomed_ me. I had a way out; I had a way out _left_ , and you _stopped_ me! Do you know what he'll do to me?! Have you _seen_ what he does to traitors?"

"Seen, no?" Inks allows. "But I have a vivid imagination, and I have seen in to that man's heart far deeper than I'd have preferred."

She plucked a vial from the nearby endtable, frowning. "This is the strongest, smoothest opiate I could get my hands on. If you want to die on your terms, that's up to you- and I don't _want you to die_ either. Not for Rankar's sake."

"Iblan's been punished enough, by my reckoning. Everything else is Rankar being a vile, petty man indulging in his worst traits- of which there are many. You do not deserve his tortures, and I'm not going to let him have you."

She set the vial down with a small frown. "So if you want to trust me... then we can work something out. Maybe you don't care, but if you die and Rankar _isn't_ satisfied, who will he target next? How many will feel his wrath? I'm not arguing for you to take this on, but if you have an idea, I'm all ears."

Rose Marble's eyes move between Inks and the vial several times. Then, with a nervous swallow, she reaches out and picks it up in a quick, jerky motion, snatching her hand back and watching for any movement on Inks' part to stop her or take it back. Cracking it open, she sniffs at it gingerly to check that it's not just coloured water or some other cruel deception.

"...Please don't quaff it down. It's expensive for one, and I generally think it works better intravenously."

Pursing her lips, Rose Marble nods, and recorks the vial. She doesn't give it back, instead tucking it under her shirt, between her breasts.

"Work something out," she said, the edge of panic still close to her voice. "Like what?"

"We either need to appease Rankar, which is increasingly unlikely, or make it so his rage against House Iblah crashes against an unassailable wall- if you _are_ going to kill yourself, you should at least take the time to write some standing orders that go into effect to further Iblan's interests, if not your own."

"So, how do we ensure that you do not die and are not tortured. We need to make it so the cost of doing so is so high that the payoff isn't worth it, or the satisfaction he'd get... How does _House Iblan_ deal with traitors?"||

"Banishment, for minor sins," Rose Marble murmurs. "For greater ones... the ancestor halls."

"Not something public then you can throw a corpse out for..." Inks hummed, thinking.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Just hit on a tentative plan- Inks and the Iblans arrange for Marble to be too sick to endure the tortures. The argument is that Rankar won't get the _satisfaction_ he wants unless he waits. As a supporting gesture, the Iblans even called Inks in, despite their history, to keep her alive. )  
>  Inks: (So the Iblans present the facade of 'We are ensuring this traitor can stand trial', and Inks can supply medical backing to ensure she looks the part.)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Nice. So tell him about the poisoning, and say Inks is nursing her back to health so that Rankar can have a crack at her from full health?))  
>  Inks: (Pretty much- and game it so that she's in 'awful condition' all the while, flummoxing her ability to treat)  
> 

Inks nodded, mostly to herself. "Alright- so here's my rough idea...."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I think we can conclude the session on that note)  
>  Inks: and next week we can open up with the Adoption and nudging Rankar away for the moment)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough! End session there, then.))  
>  ST: 4+1xp for great roleplaying +2mxp.  
>  Inks: (Huzzah!)  
>  ST: You enjoy yourself?  
>  Inks: yes!  
>  Inks: note for future- get Rose Marble a Stomach Bottle Bug  
>  Inks: good characterization  
>  Inks: Lots of good little touches and affirmations of Inks's character, and the more work for the Iblans, the more gameable they'll be  
>  Inks: if the Adoption is mostly foregone, do you have a rough take of assets they'll grant me?  
>  ST: What, as head of house?  
>  Inks: As whatever position Inks ends up with, I have no idea what you're gonna give me  
>  Inks: I just know I'm gonna get Something  
>  ST: Yeah. I don't have a take at the moment, but I will by next session.  
>  Inks: No worries  
> 


	54. Session 54: A Matter of Family

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 54))  
>  ST: ((You can lead off with a narrative stunt of what Inks' plan is, and how she goes about setting it up. It's been a day or so - you don't have long before Rankar finishes warming up the iron maiden and asks where his torture victim is.))  
>  Inks: (got it, thinking)  
> 

Why was she protecting Rose Marble? Inks wasn't particularly sure. She had originally considered her a traitor, but the drastic re-contextualizing of Rankar's character had shifted her priorities and beliefs to a significant degree.

While she was mulling on that moral and ethical question, she turned her eye towards ensuring Rose Marble would live to see justice- preferably at Inks's hand than Rankars. To do that, she pulled in her vast medical knowledge- few in Gem would be her equal, and the experiences of her friends and allies. 

Tinctures provided by Tatters to render Rose's pallor deathly, with open sores on her lips. Veins turned black with sluggish blood. Some of these things were real poisons, carefully administered to achieve the desired effect. Rose's eyes were bloodshot, and her breathing labored. If need be, Inks would just retrieve the token that Ajjim had found, and give her Green Sun Wasting- but not yet.

Along the way, she recruited her newest allies in House Iblan, securing their aide in creating a paper trail that Pipera backstopped with her bureacratic accumen- a formal request for Inks's aide as a doctor, citing her legendary prowess despite their recent tumultuous history.

All that was left was to present Rankar with a torture victim that would die at the first brush of hot iron- and to ensure Rose's cooperation, Inks fashioned a capsule of the opiate she provided, to be held under the tongue 'just in case'.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Int+Medicine for your disguise job, Diff 3 +3 external penalty to do it without actually damaging her health.))  
>  Inks: (Tool/stunt bonuses?)  
>  ST: ((2-dot stunt bonus.))  
>  Inks: (While I'm here I'll throw in Anointment of Miraculous Health to bolster her HLs again)  
>  ST: ((Nice. Reduces penalty to -1 external.))  
>  Inks: !ex 15 +3 -1; Inks: [10, 3, 3, 7, 9, 10, 8, 10, 9, 10, 7, 3, 6, 10, 2] was rolled for 17 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Lol.))  
>  Inks: (I think that was 'only' 16 sux)  
>  ST: ((Oh gee, "only" 16 successes. I guess you fail the roll, then. :P))  
>  Inks: (kek)  
> 

Rankar wasn't happy about it. At all. Inks was fairly sure more than a few people would be feeling the brunt of his tongue for failing to find the poison in her quarters and letting her get word of the coup's failure at all. Inks, fortunately enough, wasn't one of them - and the sullen, grudging willingness she displayed to hand her patient over if he really insisted despite all her oaths as a doctor did a good job of convincing him she was still loyal. As she'd expected, he declined to take her up on it, instead ordering her to nurse the traitor back to the very peak of health and ensure that she saw nobody but Inks and the rotating guards Rankar would post in her room to stop a recurrence.

So. That bought her a month. A month to work out a way to save the woman, while pretending to nurse her back to health, and communicate it to her under the nose of Rankar's guards. And, also, to be formally adopted into House Iblan and take it over from the inside.

This would be interesting.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Pipera can whisper to people silently right?)  
>  ST: ((Yes. Or Inks could dig up that list of "flippable guards" she carefully redacted. :V))  
>  Inks: (Good suggestion)  
>  ST: ((And then wave KtSP around for good measure.))  
>  Inks: (yep)  
> 

Pipera for the moment kept her council to herself about Inks's flip-flopping priorities. She had known going in that a Solar would be a mercurial sort anyway, so there was only a fond exasperation at Inks's attitude. (Inks was pretty sure Pipera was enjoying herself though- she liked the challenges).

With her assistant deployed to read Rose Marble in on the plan, that left Inks to work on the guards. Rankar in a way made a critical mistake- leaving her alone with ordinary men and women. 

Leveraging the list of potential agents the Iblans themselves had gathered, it made easy pickings. A wink there, a touch here- it was a more pure form of seduction than most people thought she was capable of, and it made ferreting out the far more reasonable prices of the Despot's guards all too easy.

If she couldn't charm them with her words and flirtation, she could with her practicality, subtly to mend the cracks in their armor or bones.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, what actually _is_ the plan, long-term?))  
>  Inks: (Ah, sorry, I'm kinda tunnel visioned it seems!)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  Inks: (I was focusing on step 1-2- getting allies among the guards)  
>  Inks: (Hmm.... Okay, so I want to make Rankar back down, or otherwise convince him that going through with torture is not in his best interests. I have a month, so I can learn a Charm or even a spell... )  
>  ST: ((Okay. Understand that's going to be extremely non-trivial. He doesn't need Rose Marble to rule Gem, and he feels betrayed and slighted and paranoid. He very much wants her dead.))  
>  Inks: (yeah, I'm aware)  
>  Inks: (if I just want to buy more time, Indolent Official Method is my go-to, but that's not actually a Plan.... One idea is that Inks convinces him that her being alive and having suffered so much is 'enough', but then you just said 'wants her dead', so rethinking)  
>  Inks: (I'm trying to avoid 'violence as deleterious state', not that I'm against it, but I'm trying to not default to it in the 'boring game logic' sense.)  
>  Inks: (...heh, I had a silly idea of like, somehow 'cursing' Rose Marble to become a bronze statue riffing on Invulnerable Skin of Bronze, and Inks takes it as 'this was the only way to keep her alive, but now she's a permanent testament to your ire')  
>  Inks: (she might infact Be the statue, at least temporarily, but just Inks crafts a possible fake)  
>  Inks: (Hmm... Still thinking, for the record. )  
>  Inks: (I'm in a good starting position *for* a coup, in fact. I have potential agents in the Despot's palace. I have more of his trust than others right now, even if Inks took a small hit with her opposition to the pain spell)  
>  ST: ((Coup, yes. Fallout, not so much.))  
>  ST: ((We've got at least a session to get there, so if you want you can say that Inks is still considering it.))  
>  Inks: (Heh, yeah)  
>  Inks: (Agreed at least. Okay, the immediate goal is to protect Rose Marble and blunt Rankar's ire. It seems like every time Rose Marble gets brought up, he reinforces his 'Gotta kill her' principle...)  
>  Inks: (So I should stop doing that, directly or tangentially)  
>  Inks: (I'm not coming up with much that feels good- is there a roll or something I can take to shake something loose?)  
>  ST: ((Well, if you're putting it off, we can delay it in favour of getting the guards onside for now. Speaking of which, roll me... let's say Charisma+Presence to convince them she makes a better boss, since for the most part their prices are things House Iblan could meet with resources or "be a good boss"-type things. Roll against average MDV 3, boosted to 6 because she's trying to get them to potentially turn against the Despot and he's scary.))  
>  ST: ((2-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Applying Sexy Stunner)  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +3; Inks: [10, 2, 9, 4, 7, 10, 2, 6, 3, 6, 7, 3] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (And we can abstract the KtSPs? There's really no reason why it can't work on court units either)  
>  ST: ((I mean, this is her using KtSP on various different people who all have broadly similar wants, over the course of them having a rotating guard where only one of them is watching Rose Marble at a time. You still need to ping it for each separate person.))  
>  ST: ((But yes, this is assuming she's bought most or all of them.))  
>  ST: ((Which incidentally means she now has Followers 1 (Royal Guards).))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
>  Inks: (Woo! More Anchors!  
>  ST: ((Heh.))  
> 

* * *

She didn't have a solution to Roes Marble's dilemma quite yet - besides maybe "failing to save her from the disease", assuring Rankar she'd died a slow and agonizing death and then smuggling her out of the city and "burning the body to prevent infection spreading". Which would damage her reputation as a healer, and be pretty hard to sell in the first place.

Nonetheless, Inks made good use of the breathing space she'd bought herself. One by one, as the days passed, she swayed the guards the Despot sent to watch over his prisoner - ignoring the ones her notes said were adamantly loyal and targeting those that Rose Marble had marked as prime for recruitment. Soon, she had a little band of loyalists inside the Despot's palace, keeping their ears to the ground and waiting for her word.

But there was time to spend at home, too, while she waiting for the offer of adoption. And after one particularly satisfying day spent talking a guard into trusting that she'd look out for him better as he aged out of usefulness in guard work, she came home to find Pesala in higher spirits than she was ever in while her father was out on a desert walk, racing around the main hall of the manor with a brightly-coloured turban sitting askew and unraveling on her head and... was that a petrified scorpion in her hand?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Vnice!)  
> 

Inks blinked. "...Pesala, context?" She strode in, relishing the wider open spaces of her townhouse and Maji's reassuring bulk. Vahti meanwhile was cooking- and doing a far better job than the last time she'd tried. (The flame duck was still besmirched with flour, but it only highlighted her curves).

She waited for the racing bundle of energetic tiger-girl to slow down juuust a bit before snatching her up with Exalted strength and hoisting the giggling child over head. "Details, little tiger girl! Share!"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Pulling into this scene was a good move, btw)  
> 

"I'm a bloodrider!" Pesala yelled at the top of her voice, waving the scorpion around. "Death to still water! Yah!" Lunging down, she tried to fasten sharp little jaws around Inks' wrist, presumably to drink her blood.

>   
>  ST: ((... I'm actually gonna roll that, lol. Dex 2+Melee 1+Burning Fists Style 2=5.))  
>  ST: !ex 5; ST: [7, 4, 2, 1, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

Inks adjusts her grip, and the snapping teeth miss. From the baths, she hears Ajjim groan.

"A thousand pardons," he calls over. "I told her too much about the people of the Anam, it seems."

Laughing, Inks tossed Pesala in the air with a smile. "It's fine! I could use some cheer today!  
After roughhousing with Pesala for a bit longer, Inks finally settled down herself, dipping her feet into the baths. To Ajjim, she smiled. "So how was the Anam Way?"

"Bloody, as always," Ajjim sighed. "But a wealth of information. The fireskinned are always happy to see one of my line. I brought much back," he waves a hand at a pair of bulging saddlebags, "but if you wish, I could tell you a little now?"

"I'd like to hear it, yes." Inks grinned, and Vahti joined them with a tray full of snacks. It didn't take long for Pipera to wander by, and even Tatters poked her head out of the shadows to listen.

"Very well," Ajjim says, putting his hands together meditatively. "The dry bed of the Anam runs from far to the northeast of us, a hundred miles east of Dheajen on the Flowing Dune Sea, down to the Hollow Dunes and the Burning Wastes to the southeast. A hundred miles across the Scar to catch the glint on the horizon, then fifty more to reach Kept Behind Cactus Spines; the waypoint for Gem where the old river runs closest to us-"

The practiced ebb-and-flow of his storyteller voice is broken by Pesala cannonballing into the water between them. "Inks Inks Inks! They have _bloodriders_ who go around on _giant scorpions_ and drink people's _blood_ 'cause they say still water is cursed and kill anyone who drinks it! And windsingers who ride _dragons_ , and people with _fire_ for skin who worship me 'cause of my Great Grandpapi!"

Ajjim covers his eyes. "That is not entirely true," he mutters resignedly. "Pesala, please?"

Inks laughed, smiling. "Oh, you both are great friends." She leaned back on her palms, humming. "So.."

"What I'm hearing is that it's a wild... tribal region with lots of specific cultures that all share similar lifestyles..." She hummed again, asking Ajjim a few more questions, while Pesala clambered about in the baths, shedding the stifling turban while her tiger-father let out an aggrieved sigh.

Reaching out, she gathered Pesala up into her lap, heedless of the way the girl was sopping wet and reached for a nearby brush. It didn't take much or long for Pesala to calm down, when Inks's fingers worked their way through the girl's wild curls. Ajjim took that as his cue to continue, an out the corner of her eye, Inks could see Gloria peeking out of her little shrine.

"On the Firepeak Pave," he explains as she combs the tangle, " we have cities and Houses and businesses. On the Anam Way, things work differently. Those who share a tent - or a ship, or a colony - are _family_. Where families ride together in a fleet or graze their herds on the same land or mass in raiding bands and swear to kill and die together; that is what they call a _clan_. And finally, those of like kind - all those who scar their skin with fire, or ride scorpions and drink flowing blood, or hide beneath the sands from the sun's light - these are the _tribes_.

He holds up a finger. "Do not think of the tribes as monoliths. No. No more than are the Coxati we visited to the west. The clans roam and fight and vie for dominance. Bloodrider will fight against bloodrider, the sons of Almeua compete for the grace of the djinn, Dune Folk families will slaughter anyone not their own, fireskin and windsinger may join forces against scattered bands of their own. Even clans shift and change like the face of the desert as families compete and ally and fall out. They are not called the Bloody Sands without reason, and nothing there is set.

Inks whistled softly. "Sounds like an adventure- one I dodged on the way here." Cocking her head to the side, she gave Ajjim an evaluating look. "Did you pick up any strains or hurts along the way? I'd be happy to take care of them if you did."

Ajjim looks pleased. "My thanks, but no. Apart from one scuffle with a family of antmen, it was a blessed trip. As I said, I learned much. So."

Seeing Pesala take a breath to contribute further, he leant across and put a gentle hand on her mouth. "To summarise; there are seven major tribes that inhabit the Anam Way. The bloodriders, who as my daughter says ride great scorpions and spurn still water; drinking instead what flows from desert streams and bleeding veins. The windsingers, who dress their sandships with snakeskin and call them the bones of dragons. The sons of Almeua bear the blood of djinn and are not considered men until they have mastered a wyld-twisted camel-steed of their own. These are the tribes that ride."

Raising his free hand in illustration, he continues. "Then there are those that are less than men. The ant children are mostly female, and make pacts with the spirits of the ground where they dig deep into the rock and stone of outcroppings. The serpents I know little of, save that they are masters of poison and have certain pacts with the winds. And the Dune Folk, who all revile."

"Mnd th frskmd!" Pesala yells from behind his hand, bouncing excitedly on Inks' lap. He sighs. "And, yes, the fireskinned, who scar their skin with firedust and lay with spirits of fire such as Vahti and, yes, worship Akhammanu. They give me aid when I go to them - but I am not always comfortable with their favour."

"Sounds like one hell of an adventure." Inks declared. "Did you find anything worth mentioning, immediately interesting trade goods, treasures? I admit I'm curious about the scorpion Pesala has..."

"A bloodrider token," Ajjim sighs. "One of their hatchlings just out of the egg, preserved as a good luck charm. I brought it back as a present, which she has taken to far too well." Pesala giggles happily at his long-suffering tone.

"But yes," he goes on. "I have made notes on the Pillars and taken rubbings of the carvings on their sides. They mark the course of the Way like stepping stones, sometimes as few as ten miles apart - never more than twenty five. The two mightiest of their kind are more than forty metres high - Thirst-Quencher and Gut's Gulp; both the home of spirits. Both are major trade stops, and it's said there are many treasures still within Laughingtown for those that brave them. What I have heard of Skol speaks to great value in the carcass it is built on, and the fruits of the desert are enough that I made my living by them."

"Very nice. I'll help you appraise everything then once some things settle down." Inks grinned. "You did good work, Ajjim. I'm sure I can cut you a bonus if you like."

"A thousand thanks," he says pleasantly, bowing a little in the water and accepting a hyperactive Pesala as Inks stands.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I wasn't kidding about appraising the haul- between Insightful Buyer Technique and Frugal Merchant Method, this might be Ajjim's most profitable expedition yet)  
>  Inks: (but we can abstract that out)  
>  Inks: (This was a fun interlude. Ajjim is badass)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Indeed. Also this was mostly a fact-finding mission for her.))  
>  Inks: (yeah, which I think it succeed)  
> 

* * *

It took two weeks and more, but eventually, there came the gilded letter from House Iblan, written in elegant calligraphy and signed by Virtuous Jade herself. An invitation for a hearing; an offer of patronage and adoption. A chance for a new family and an honoured name to append to her own.

Reading between the brush-strokes of the signature, Inks could almost _feel_ the simmering resentment.

Inks hefted the missive, like it weighed more than paper and gold leaf. Pipera watched her silently, and Inks let out a soft sigh. "Gotta move forward." Inks declared.

Rising with a flourish, she threw open her closet and dressed to impress- eschewing the gold and finery that would befit a new member of the house- being able to wear gold in the style of the family would come later.

From there it was only a brief reply to accept the invitation, while Inks prepared her retinue for the coming hearing.

The hearing itself was, by tradition, at sundown - the transition of day into night; the leaving of an old family into a state of kinless flux. The hearing, deliberation and assessment would last through the dark hours, and at sunrise - should she be accepted - she would emerge into the new dawn with a new name.

Inks had nobody to stand for her from the family she was leaving. This wasn't actually that uncommon - this sort of adoption was used as often for orphans or those in delicate family situations not unlike hers as it was for marriages into the family, adoptions from cadet branches and similar. As such, she was permitted to bring two of her friends or allies along to bear witness to her transition and represent her prior ties to the gods and ancestor-spirits.

Inks scanned the chamber, seeing who was there and who notably was not. This was unknown territory for her, and she felt a pang of awkward nerves that she'd normally never even consider.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+aware on who's in attendance?)  
>  ST: ((Well, first of all, who'd she choose to bring with her? The choice, mm, isn't necessarily plot-significant, but you can have it be a character statement of some importance; who she chooses for this.))  
>  Inks: (Pipera and Vahti, logically. Maji is likely waiting, impatiently, in a nearby antechamber.)  
>  ST: ((I mean, if you want to bring Maji, you totally can bring Maji. :V))  
>  ST: ((As one of your two, I mean.))  
>  Inks: (I know, but I am not)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Fair enough.))  
> 

The room was another one off to the side of the grand hall, on the opposite side to the moving tapestry that Asenya had met her in. The walls and ceiling were rounded - Inks rather thought this was a section of an old lava tube in which the floor had been filled in to make it level - and carved with images of great moments in Iblan history, the story of the founding of the house, the principles it held to and paeans to the ancestors it honoured.

It was set up not unlike a courtroom, with Inks herself in a witness box before seven priests and priestesses of the Iblan temple. Centre to them was Virtuous Jade, glaring at her with thinly-disguised hate. Beside her were her two sponsors; Flickering Gold looking vaguely uncomfortable and not a little fidgety, Asenya's eyes closed as she meditated with the patience of stone. Pipera and Vahti were straight-backed and silent against the far end of the chamber from the priestesses; witnesses on their own plinth who stood for the family - or the state of lacking one - that Inks was leaving.

The hearing was long and ceremonial and rather pompous, but boiled down to a simple, pragmatic enough blueprint. The ancestors were honoured and praised; their attention called to the meeting. Inks was named by her sponsors, who spoke as to why the offer had been made and what she could contribute to the House. A seat was given to any who wished to speak _against_ her joining - filled by a woman in her late sixties who Pipera's subtle whisper told her was another of Bana's children. Virtuous Jade nodded along to her decrying of the chaos Inks had brought, but gave no comment herself - apparently prevented from voicing her own opinions on the matter by the tradition and ritual.

There were a couple of rounds of this, mixed with some surprisingly frank discussion of the meat-and-bones practicalities - money, housing, support, the practicalities of adopting a new House member with needs and possible dependents that Iblan would be expected to support.

Then, at last, it was time for Inks to speak on her own behalf and make her case for entering the eldest of Gem's great houses. The ancestors' attention was thick in the air; the same weighty presence as she'd felt in the grand hall when she'd bled for them and bargained for mercy with Rankar.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice.)  
>  ST: ((^_^))  
>  Inks: (you put the work in this session, good job)  
> 

"I have learned a great deal, these past few months. About myself, Gem and House Iblan." Inks began.

She took a slow, steadying breath, smiling with bright white teeth and artfully darkened lips. "I've seen so much power, history and raw, untapped potential on display here that I cannot help but be awed- humbled even."

"What you're offering- asking of me." Inks's voice skipped over the tremor that belied the backroom dealings that got her this meating. "Is to take upon the duties and responsibilities of one of the most ancient and venerable houses of Gem. Of a cultural and economic force known across half the South or more."

She paused, feeling the tone of the room shift and flow around her words. Standing slowly, she let her words reach out to the curved ceiling, to the empheral shades and lingering presences of the Iblan Ancestors, as well as the panel of judges before her. "This adoption... this is a redress, of errors committed on both sides. To show you all that I want to mend the rift between myself and your House- and to strengthen Iblan in the world."

"I brought The Despot of Gem down upon your heads, and for that I must make amends." Inks declared with a weighty finality. "For that, I want to blunt his ire and help you reclaim your glory..." 

She smiled more broadly now, eyes glinting with mischief and mercantile intrigue. "And I want to help you all become rich- richer than your wildest dreams. To produce glorious wonders and great works of art and business. If you'll let me, I will see that House Iblan's name is written in the stars."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Niiiiiiice. 3-dot stunt for playing right to their values. Cha+Pres.))  
>  Inks: !ex 20 "Cha 3 Pres 4 +7d 1st excellency +3d stunt +3d Thunder-Minded Tycoon Style; 3rd mastery effect if applicable"; Inks: [8, 2, 1, 9, 10, 1, 8, 7, 4, 10, 7, 3, 7, 3, 8, 3, 4, 7, 8, 1] was rolled for 13 successes.  
> 

There's some rather unhappy murmuring about bringing down the Despot on them, but by and large the priests and priestesses - save for Virtuous Jade - seem to approve of how seriously Inks is taking this, and the respect she's showing for their great house. Inks suspects - hah - that Virtuous Jade probably primed them to expect an irreverent, decadent, deliberately offensive foreigner with no regard for their House, and the result is that they're not feeling pleasantly surprised - and Virtuous Jade's authority has taken a knock from her misrepresentation. Nothing that will doom her, but... well, enough to sow a few seeds of suspicion about the extent of her bias. Every little helps, after all.

Through gritted teeth, Virtuous Jade sums the tally - five in favour, two against, and she'd obviously expected those numbers to be reversed at least, if not a unanimous refusal. In the lack of a unanimous approval - a rare occurrence indeed, not even seen for Flickering Gold - she puts the question to the ancestors as the final arbitrator.

The weighty feeling of distant, hollow regard - the pressure of thousands of shriveled eyes, hundreds of years of Iblan elders and priests; generation upon generation of forebears - bores into Inks just as it had at her blood offering. The presence of the ancestors; so thick and strong here as to be almost tangible, assesses her and measures her and evaluates her worth.

After an indeterminately long period, they speak. The walls and floor and ceiling resound with the chorus of dusty grave-echoes. A single word, in archaic Firetongue. The same one she'd heard in the great hall.

Virtuous Jade looks like she would very much like to slit Inks' throat on the spot. Her lips go pinched. Her eyes narrow. But despite the lemon she just swallowed, she is a woman of her duty, and she waves a hand at the attendants.

"Take her away and make her ready for the anointing," she forces out. "The ancestors have spoken. At dawn, she will become... Iblan Inks."

What followed was a whirlwind of deep lore and culture that Inks was only scratching the surface of- pulled into the middle while a number of Iblans- mostly women, surrounded her and started *singing*. It was a jaunty tune, lilting and upbeat, and the dialect was some offshoot of firetongue that Inks only got the gist of.

But the song had power, as did the attention of the Ancestors and the hum of Essence all around her. They'd brought Inks to a warded closet and vanity- a tall mirror polished out of a single flawless pane of silver waited for her. Pipera and Vahti were politely shooed away as the choruses rang out. Some of it was improv, and she noted they clucked in dismay at her tattoo as more and more of it was revealed- Not out of any particular dislike of the work, but that it clashed so terribly with their ritual garb.

One young woman snapped her fingers with a grin and hurried off, only to come back with a gauzy silk veil bedecked in gemstones and filigree. A dress was laid out for her in the colors of the Iblan families, and quickly tailored to fit. So prepared, they all but thrust her out into the next chamber...  
  


>   
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((You did _not_ just reference Mulan.))  
>  Inks: (I did.)  
>  ST: ((you are awful and you should feel awful. :P))  
> 

Far away and high above the ground, Inks could sense the approach of the sun. Night was coming to an end. The dawn light beckoned. Since twilight she had been down here, awake, aware, alert. She wasn't tired, though. The near-completed ritual had the same charged feeling as a readied spell, shaped but not yet cast.

The great hall echoed with whispers, its glowstones dim but for a circle around the obsidian table. Virtuous Jade waited there, with a fist-sized pot of tumbaga in her hands. Stiffly, she nodded to Inks as she approached - and, coached by the women who'd got her ready, Inks gave the proper bow back. A muscle in her jaw twitched, and the old woman beckoned Inks to kneel in front of her before popping the lid on the pot.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Occult to identify the contents, Diff 5.))  
> 

 

 

>   
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3; Inks: [4, 7, 1, 2, 6, 5] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (oh well!)  
> 

It was some kind of wine, Inks thought - rich and red and scented with something entirely unrecognisable; something she'd never tasted anything like in all her decadence. Virtuous Jade dipped her thumb carefully into the stuff - the container was about two-thirds full - and pressed it against Inks' forehead, just above her caste mark. To her surprise, she felt the essence in her brow glimmer at the touch - not truly light up as if her soul were overflowing her body, but she wouldn't be surprised if it were faintly visible.

Virtuous Jade looked askance at her for a moment, but then appeared to disregard it. If she took it as some kind of cheeky insult... well, it wasn't like her opinion of Inks could fall any lower. She cleared her throat instead.

"The way is open to you... young Iblan," she said, the last two words extracted by heavy chains, several plough horses and a sturdy winch. "Descend into your history, and emerge with your birthright to greet the sun." She gestured towards one of the pillars - one that Inks knew well; having descended through it once before.

Inks nodded with solmen grace and stood, moving quietly as the gathered family and ancestors weighed her every move. She approached the door- long since repaired, and it opened easily...

Down, she went. Not... less stressed, but a different kind of stressed. She kept her anima banked, knowinng that the ancestors of House Iblan- they were *her* ancestors now, or would be soon. She moved.

Calmly, carefully, she retraced some of her steps and made a few new ones, mindful of the awful presence that filled the shadowmines some months ago. She listened for the stuttering cry of the tappers, and by luck and skill, found an unbroken spar of glittering treasure. She plucked the stone from the rock wall, pleased to note the brilliant blue of sapphire in the low light of the glowstone.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((hang on))  
>  Inks: (k)  
> 

She came back up into the carven halls. The tombs; the catacombs that marked the border of the shadowland at the foot of the stair.

They'd been empty when she'd gone down.

Now they were full.

Ghosts stood before her. Silk-dressed women who smell of amaranth and copper. Blind figures, stretched out - akin to the tappers below, but more richly dressed and self-aware. Skeletal men wreathed in smoke that dances with vivid images. Shadowy figures of smoke and the faded impressions of once-rich cloth.

And there, at the end of the hall, was a woman. A vast woman, built to three times the scale of a man, pale and ephemeral with paper-like skin and six hands whose grasping fingers were eight-jointed. She sat on a palanquin held up by ten ancient men; their long and wispy beards wrapped around their necks like collars and leading up like chains to the ring of keys she wore on her hip. Her lips were painted golden, and her eyes were polished gems.

"See that you do, girl," she said; her voice cracked and ancient and reedy. For a moment, looking at her face, Inks subtracted the twisting of death and thought... in life, this woman must have looked not unakin to Iblan Asenya. And even as she thought it, the memory of her promise to aid House Iblan's prosperity was drawn up to the top of her mind, relived in vivid hues.

"See that you do," the ghost - surely one of the Greater Dead - repeated. The ranks of ancestors shuffled aside, leaving the path to the stairs free.

Bowing once, Inks moved through the ranks of ancestors with her head held high and respectful. Ascending the stairs, she pushed open the door, ready to greet the day.

The path to the surface was short, and the sapphire gleamed in her hand as she held it up to greet the sun. Tossing it in the air and catching it again, Iblan Inks nodded in satisfaction.

Today, House Iblan. Tomorrow... Gem.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Aaaand end session.))  
>  Inks: (Nice, good session!)  
>  ST: 4+1xp, 1+3mxp for the end of a miniarc.  
>  Inks: One bit I want to call out was how you articulatd Virtuous's Jade's social blunder  
>  ST: Hmm?  
>  Inks: I hadn't at all intended to even make that part of my strategy  
>  ST: :P  
>  ST: you got lots of threshold successes  
>  Inks: i was just thinking 'Okay, they respect tradition and professionalism, so let's not act the way Inks has acted around them)  
>  ST: and you like getting bonuses for them  
>  Inks: I do! And that's true  
>  ST: and yes, that was great roleplaying  
>  ST: well done  
>  Inks: but it was really solid and you did a good job of describing what those bonuses ennded up being. It felt *natural*  
>  ST: that kind of "applying and exploiting what you know about the situation" is definitely 3-dot stunt territory  
>  Inks: as opposed to contrived or a deus ex machina  
>  ST: Yeah.  
>  ST: Thoughts on the adoption as a whole?  
>  Inks: You really gave me a lot ot work with with the culture and ritual behaviors. And I was waiting for the ghosts to make an appearance  
>  ST: Hee.  
>  ST: Yes.  
>  Inks: I wish I was able to match your wordcount a bit this session, you were lifting a lot this week  
>  ST: So you've met the head ancestor-spirit of House Iblan.  
>  ST: doesn't she look friendly?  
>  ST: :3  
>  Inks: She looks Important  
>  ST: ((Some consultation with Tatters will tell Inks she's a tallying grandmother turned Greater Dead, probably from ancestor worship)  
>  Inks: Friendly remains to be scene, but now Inks has a very big obligation to fulfill)  
>  ST: Speaking of obligations to fill  
>  ST: remember that one to Pipera about the Dead influencing Creation? :3  
>  Inks: and yes, I have to juggle that now  
>  Inks: so Inks is now Iblan Inks- and that's gonna be a challenge to remember  
>  ST: Hee.  
>  ST: I had fun!  
>  Inks: I'm glad!  
>  ST: god, I still can't believe you put in a _Mulan_ reference. :P ST: have u no shame  
>  Inks: I wanted to make the Iblans come off a bit less stuffy  
>  Inks: and I wanted to foreshadow Inks making/wearing veils  
>  ST: heh  
>  ST: yeah  
>    
> 


	55. Session 55: Business and Pleasure

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Session 55))  
> ST: ((So, this is going to be a strategic session covering the next season.))  
> ST: ((What does Inks want to get done?))  
> Inks: (Oho! Okay- So the plan is to engineer some kind of obstacle for Rankar to focus most of his attention on, so that he's too busy to simply up and torture Rose Marble. This buys Inks time to develop a sorcerous homunculous or similar to replace her and give Rankar what he wants)  
> Inks: (Along with that, taking more time/effort to further entrench Inks in House Iblan, making inroads towards leadership, defacto if not dejure.)  
> Inks: (So nominally, the plan to 'delay' is to ask Gion and Janissa, as well as seek out other potential cats-paws, to bring 'Matters of Import' to Rankar'. Along the way, Inks will liberally apply Indolent Official Method, so the various 'projects' including 'torture Rose Marble' are delayed or fraught with penalties.)
> 
> ST: ((Okay. So she's going to be asking her allies to bring up matters with Rankar and taking an action to produce a homunculus. How many actions does she have again, with her Charms?))  
> Inks: (if this is a standard season? five minor actions, and/or any combination of Majors, and I can't cheese out concurrent actions)  
> Inks: (well, not for things like sorcery at least)  
> ST: ((I thought that Charm said you couldn't combine the extra Minors it granted?))  
> Inks: (nope, explicitly says it can)
> 
> ST: ((I stand corrected! Okay, so. Working on your homunculus with neomah assistance will be a Major, because that's a pretty big project. What else will you be doing, and what are you assigning other people to doing?))  
> ST: ((Notably; House Iblan will be refilling the council seats it's lost, which is, uh.))  
> ST: ((Most of them.))
> 
> ST: ((So Inks might want to get involved in lobbying for this person or that.))
> 
> Inks: (Hmm... I don't know of any NPCs offhand except for Vahti and Pipera, and Pipera's more Inks's Employee, she's not an Iblan, so I don't think she counts)  
> ST: ((Currently she's in a state of ambiguous flux with regards to her position in the House, but officially holds no rank beyond a basic House member. But with three council seats being filled, and two already loyal to her, she can use this as an opportunity to stack the deck for when the time comes to choose a new head of house by council vote.))))
> 
> ST: ((Oh, yeah, they'll be as-yet-unnamed Iblans. But Bana is still around, and will be trying to fill those seats with her preferred candidates.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, okay then that makes sense. And yes that sounds reasonable, that Inks is politicking to secure councilors loyal to her or at least in line with her ideals)  
> Inks: (Will I need to do any mercantile management during this season, or are we assuming it's all influx anyway before the big 'House Iblan revision of assets'?)  
> ST: ((Pipera's Very Excellent Roll last season shored up your businesses against the turbulence of House Iblan going a bit wibbly, if you'll recall.))  
> ST: ((So that's "Major: homunculus" and "Major: realpolitik". Your last minor?))
> 
> Inks: (Aha,thank you- so in that case, I'm going to have... Pipera assisting Inks with interviewing potential councilors, Vahti can arrange for a meeting with Sahlak Janissa, as by now she's 'known' as one of Inks's associates.)
> 
> ST: ((Well, that falls under "realpoliticking in House Iblan". What's Inks putting her last Minor towards, if anything?))  
> Inks: (Yeah, I'm trying to think- a sorcery spell)  
> Inks: (Hmm... Peacock Shadow Eyes, no tutor, if that's okay?)  
> ST: ((That's valid, sure. What Anchor?))  
> ST: (("Reputation (Gem's Painted Beauty)" is valid.))  
> Inks: (Reputation, Gem's Painted Beauty)  
> ST: ((Nice. Okay, so. I know you want your Gion scene, and we should see if your Trivials to get your allies' help work first. So, go ahead with that, then we can roll for Inks' actions and work out Pipera's, Vahti's and Tatters'.))  
> 

* * *

Darkness, and sweet sweet slumber.

Imported silk sheets. Aromatic oils to promote health, wellness, restful sleep and sexual performance. Wines and ales from the Coxati mountains lined several shelves- most of them half empty. Clothes littered the stone floor, covering more than the fine rugs and runners.

"...Gion..."

The voice was low, smooth and soothing. Befitting a goddess of culture and decadent, erotic pleasure. Trasti Gion smiled, eyes closed.

"Gion..."

The woman spoke more firmly, just a hint louder. More insistent. More wanting. As was right and proper.

Tangled up in the sheets, Gion rolled over and hit something warm. "mmmph... Lady Inks."

"Gion. I need you to wake up now, please."

He reached out with blind arms, wrapping his hands around her. "A new perfume, Lady Inks?" He mumbled. "Very... _primal_. I... like it."

"Gion." The crooning invitation had given way to something more strident, an urgent _need_ now. Gion frowned in his dreams, running his finger through short, soft hair. "Did you cut your hair?"

That was enough. Gion opened his eyes to meet large, gold-cast feline ones. He schooched back inches on the bed by reflex, arms slipping away from Maji's head and neck. The move gave the tiger more than enough room to blink, and with absolute dispassion- _yawn_.

Rough, rasping tongue. Long, _sharp_ teeth. Breath rank with the smell of old and new blood. Gion's pupils narrowed to pinpricks. And then he fainted.

Inks shook her head and sighed, scratching Maji's brow and she looked down. "You enjoyed that _far_ too much."

* * *

After Gion recovered, Inks invited him to breakfast- Vahti again bustling around in the kitchen for the fun of it before the flame duck spread a platter of sweet cakes and imported fruits on the table. The emerald-green woman threw herself into the seat next to Inks with a grin, and the Twilight urged Gion to dig in. "Food first, business in a bit!"

The young head-of-house was sitting as far from Maji as he physically could, and still seemed a little shaken. Nonetheless, he dug in - Inks' cooking was not an experience to be passed up, even in the wake of terror.

"So!" As they finished the last of their breakfast, Inks leaned back in her chair with a grin. "I have a favor to ask of you, Gion, in your capacity as head of House Trasti."

Gion regards her nervously. "Ah... what might that be, Lady Inks?" Apparently he's not _entirely_ without caution, and knows better than to agree to something without knowing the details yet.

"I would like to point the Despot's court and Rankar himself in a differnt direction." She got out of her chair and sauntered over, the thin silk of her dress making it abundantly clear she bathed before breakfast. Sitting down in his lap with a grin, she draped her arms around his shoulders.

"Nothing arduous, or serious. Just a matter you or your house can bring to his attention that would occupy his time. Most importantly, it cannot be something that would make him angry."

Smiling, she let out a short laugh. "For example, propose a new... entertainment venue or something- something Rankar would want to see and would want to be involved in."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Gion rolls to spot that Inks is using this to distract Rankar from something that would make him angry. Wits 2 + Investigation 1 + Reckless Gambling King Style 3 + 1 bonus {reading things an opponent he knows well is trying to hide} = 7. Will Inks resist?))  
> ST: ((... at least I _assume_ she's not going to just brazenly announce to a head of another House that she's deliberately acting directly against the Despot's orders to protect a woman who planned to assassinate him.))  
> ST: ((I will admit that this is Inks, so - and I hate you a little bit for making me say this - I genuinely can't be sure that is the case.))  
> Inks: (With Manip+Soc /2 I assume? Sun-Queen Admiration Style applies That'd be... man 2 socialize 4, + 3 style, 9/2 before charms/stunt... 5. I want to stunt anyway, but I can spend 6m on 2nd socialize to beat that)  
> ST: ((Stunt it if you like. Or use Socialise. Or both!))  
> 

Sensing Gion's wary hesitance, Inks wriggled in just a _bit_ closer, until Gion's cheek was pressed into her cleavage and surrounded by her iconic perfume.

>   
> Inks: (Inks gotta Inks)  
> Inks: (So 5 +3autosux + stunt)  
> ST: ((Lol. Okay, yeah, I'll let you apply Sexy Stunner to that, meaning she adds 5 to her defensive pool.))  
> ST: ((So, he's rolling at Diff 8.))  
> ST: !ex 7; ST: : [1, 4, 1, 7, 4, 2, 1] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((*sad trombone sounds*))  
> Inks: (Oh I thought he had rolled 7 sux already! Oh well!)  
> 

"Ahhh," Gion nodded, his eyes drifting downwards as if drawn by some incredibly powerful, implausibly localised gravity field. "I heard about your recent adoption, yes. Trying to get our reigning master's eyes elsewhere while you make yourself comfortable, then? Perhaps,"

he grins, "with a few not-quite-proper deals? Well, have no fear! As it happens, I rather think that the reorganisation of House Iblan is a perfect time to bring up the question of how Lady Bana and Lord Omar's retirement will affect the bank's relationship with the Mint, and perhaps issue a few revisements to our city currency."

He winks, and gives the charming grin of a confidant-in-arms.

"Be discreet." Inks warned him, grinning all the same. "Or if not discreet, be so brazen as to be taken at face value and no deeper."  
  


>   
> Inks: (is Gion on-side, and/or do we roll to determine the Quality of his distraction?)  
> 

Inks grinned. Alterations to the Mint production rate would already need an incredibly careful eye on them, and changes to the currency system such as removing a low-denomination coin from circulation would need yet more. And that was under the _best_ of circumstances. Given how pettily and inefficiently Omar had been running the Mint, and the legendary resentment between House Iblan and House Trasti over the division of coinage and banking between them?

Yeah, she rather thought that elsewhere in the city, Rankar was probably suffering a sudden stress headache in premonition of _months_ of aggressive quibbling over details and ferocious bitter arguments in meeting rooms between Iblan and Trasti bureaucrats.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Gion is very much on-side, and that was a cruel, cruel thing to do to your boss.))  
> Inks: (this is actually super-fortuitous, because Inks can basically solve this problem trivially when the time suits her)  
> Inks: (Rankar does not get sympathy right now)  
> Inks: (I think I can finish up this scene with Gion, and then we can move on to Janissa.)  
> ST: ((Well, not _trivially_ , because seriously, so much petty bureaucracy. But easily, yes.))  
> ST: ((Not going to address him over-using the room?))  
> Inks: (Good point, I should do that.)  
> 

Carding her fingers through his hair, Inks let out a pleased hum, but then her tone grew more serious. "There is one other matter, Gion. A more private one."

When he gave her a hopeful look up from beneath her collarbone, she allwoed herself a small frown- such a rare expression from her. "I have given you a great deal of leeway and hospitality in my home, and I have a long list of greviances made against you by my staff. I am not evicting you- not yet- but this is your gentle warning to _behave_."

He opened his mouth to protest his innocence, and then froze. A hot, rank breath gusted across the back of his neck, and an enormous, oppressive heat source loomed behind him.

"got it," he squeaked, staying very, very still. "u-understood. my apologies."  
  


>   
> Inks: (hee! Maji is great)  
> Inks: (next up is Janissa Trivial Action, or something else?)  
> ST: ((Yup. So, how's Inks contacting her?))  
> ST: ((Note that she'll be a harder sell.))  
> Inks: (Figured Vahti would deliver a message, in Vahti's suitably flirtatious manner, back to Inks's townhouse for a late lunch. Idea being that Inks is inviting Janissa over for fun (which she is), but hinting at a potential business/political dimension).   
> ST: ((Cool.))  
> 

A few days later, another head of house dropped by, beguiled by Vahti, who had taken considerably longer to deliver the message than was strictly necessary, even accounting for delays.

... also she'd come back with lipstick up her neck, looking decidedly sated. That was a hint, too.

Janissa was no less gorgeous and put together than the last time she'd been head, and swanned into the townhouse like she'd lived there all her life. "Inks!" she greeted its owner, looking perfectly delighted. "Or should I say _Iblan_ Inks? Congratulations, my dear - though I'm upset that I had to hear it from the rumour mill rather than from you. You've been avoiding me, I fear."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Janissa is installing an Emotion effect in Inks of guilt for not keeping up with her. Does Inks defend?))  
> Inks: (I do, writan)  
> ST: ((Janissa will roll 12 dice against Inks' MDV))  
> 

Laughing lightly, Inks stepped into the woman's path and caught her in a playful, indulgent hug. "I've been busy!" She put on her defense with admirable grace and panache. "And I hope to invite you over more often, or visit in general. I've had a number of tasks to deal with, and have only just managed to break away for a bit."

"But definitionally, 'avoiding you' would mean I don't want to see you, and I _do_ want to see you~"  
  


>   
> ST: !ex 12; ST: [10, 3, 10, 3, 2, 5, 10, 1, 2, 10, 4, 8] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> ST: ((... huh. So... what's Inks' MDV+1 from stunt?))  
> Inks: (Figuring that's Parry MDV, so cha 3 Pres 4 + Sexy Stunner 3; +1 autosux as I assume Jannisa has a principle of lust towards Inks. And hahaha I'm spending 6m on 2nd presence for +3 autosux. That squeaks me up to 9, and I roll 1d for my stunt)  
> Inks: !ex 1; [1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> Inks: (Okay, so it's MDV, defender wins, I just baaarely squeak it)  
> Inks: (I gotta remember tool bonuses as well more, but oh well)  
> ST: ((I mean, you could just accept the 1-dot "Guilty for forgetting about her" Principle for the scene.))  
> ST: ((But sure. :P))  
> Inks: (Haha, true true, tutoralization!)  
> 

"Ah, work," Janissa scoffs, flapping a beautifully manicured hand. "Well, my congratulations on freeing yourself from the tedium." She fluttered her eyelashes. "Still, why send your adorable little duckling to call me all the way up here? You know you're always welcome in the Red Stone tunnels."

"Oh I'm sure I am." Inks grinned, before hooking her arm around Janissa's. "Follow me though. Upstairs is far more comfortable."

Leading Janissa up the three flights of stairs, Inks revealed to her the richly appointed, lavishly decorated room- the sanctum where Inks herself rested between wild swings in fame and fortune. Gold-edged, Silk-wrapped pillows, gauzy hanging from the walls and rafters, decadently soft benches and couches along with a handsome desk artfully littered with papers and half-finished sketches.

Vahti was there as well, idly tending a flame and platter of warm morsels, and keeping the heat away from a chilled bottle of wine and iced fruits. Greeting her boss and Janissa with an eager, saucy smile, the Flame Duck continued to mind the food for a little while longer.

"I have some matters of business discuss with you, and my bedroom is warded." Inks declared. "Against scrying and sound- and I do hope to be _loud_ this afternoon."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Basic idea is getting Janissa prepped and happy for the discussion to come. So if this action has a benefit we can roll it, or just segue into 'Inks makes her case')  
> 

"Oh ho," purrs Janissa, drifting over to stroke a tantalizing finger down Vahti's cheek. "And what might those be?"

"A small favor." Inks sat down next to Vahti and wrapped her arms around the elemental's middle. "I'd like to redirect the Despot and his court to other matters for a short while. Something to occupy Rankar's time and attention while not being particularly... aggravating."

"Really?" Janissa drawls, sounding amused and charming and vastly entertained, at least half of which is probably a lie. "And why would you want that, darling? Surely you aren't getting tired of our wise Despot's charms?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Sagacious Readin of Intent please)  
> ST: ((She... wants to know why Inks is looking to distract the Despot? Actually, no; it'd be "to learn why Inks wants the Despot distracted and whether it poses any threat to her or her House".))  
> Inks: (Awesome, thank you!)  
> Inks: (I was hoping that Janissa did not have an obvious 'I am Despot's ally first' thing pinging off the quesiton)  
> ST: ((I mean, that's just what she hopes to gain from the statement. I guess it's not "TO GAIN EVIDENCE THAT INKS IS A TRAITOR THAT SHE CAN TAKE TO THE DESPOT", but "what she hopes to gain from asking the question" is all you get from SRoI.))  
> 

Inks scrunched her nose up- both due to how Vahti was nibbling at her neck and at the query. "Oh, a number of reasons. Primarily so that I can consolidate myself as _Iblan Inks_ \- that's going to be so wierd to get used to - And avoid Rankar's... Well, his _meddling_. He has his opinions, and I have mine."

>   
> ST: ((Janissa rolls the same as Gion did; Wits 3 + Investigation 2 + Depths-of-Night Temptress Style 3 = 8 dice.))  
> ST: ((Inks has a 2-die stunt bumping up her Manip+Socialize/2 by 1. Will she enhance further?))  
> Inks: (Okay, man 2 soc 4 + 2 stunt, +3d Sexy Stunner /2 = pokerface of 6 +1 autosux as well. Do I need to stunt further to qualify for Style?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, it's less applicable against Janissa, because while Gion is a young man who can easily be distracted into thinking with his lower head; she's the head of an empire of sex and debauchery who's very hard to distract by flashing thigh, and is accustomed to not letting her libido do her thinking for her.))  
> ST: ((Thunder-Minded Tycoon or Sun-Queen Admiration might be better choices.))  
> Inks: (Alright, then Sun Queen Admiration applies, (informal venue), so pokeface of 6, +3 autosux from 2nd socialize)  
> Inks: (Janissa's gotta beat 9)  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: : [4, 6, 2, 6, 6, 8, 5, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: ((Lol.))  
> 

Janissa examined Inks closely for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the queenly repose Inks wore naturally even with an affectionate elemental in her lap and a buffet table behind her. "Well, I can't deny he can be a trifle overbearing," she allowed.

"Ah, men, no? Still," she continues, letting her dress ride up her thighs as she sat and swung leg across the other, "that does seem a dreary task of shifting his attention to _me_. Would you ask me to suffer that without gratitude, darling?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Make your case for what you'll do in return, and roll (Cha or Man)+Presence. MDV dependent on stunt.))  
> ST: ((I will remind you that you have Frugal Merchant Method))  
> Inks: (And soul's price! May I use both?)  
> ST: ((You may. KtSP external penalty is -5.))  
> Inks: (Negating the penalty with 10m on 2nd excellency, rolling 12d)  
> Inks: !ex 12; [1, 8, 9, 10, 5, 2, 5, 2, 1, 7, 4, 1] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> Inks: (I now know Janissa's price of loyalty. I've spent 22m this scene so far)  
> ST: ((Value of 'occupy Rankar's attention with some petty matter for a while' is a Res 2 favour - it'll be tiresome and annoying, but not huge.))  
> ST: ((Her price is "aid in clearing her debts to her forebears".))  
> Inks: (nice)  
> 

She didn't want to promise an open-ended favor, so Inks considered what Janissa might want that she could provide. Both as a potential actor in House Iblan politics, and more broadly as a Solar and Sorcerer. "My gratitude, for one." Inks offered immediately and sincerely. "Hmm... Perhaps we can help each other a bit more."

Lying back and drawing Vahti and Jannisa into a delightful tangle of limbs and silk, Inks smiled. "I've wanted a chance to learn, to improve myself in some arts that House Sahlak is uniquely suited at. Performance and similar. I am Gem's Painted Beauty- I would be happy to- when I am skilled enough, agree to share some of that goodwill and fortune with House Sahlak."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Summary is that Inks is offering a broad agreement of 'Hey, if you don't mind waiting for me to get good, I would be happy to play the part of hostess or musician or something on a contract basis. You get to bank on my fame and 'talent', I get training.)  
> 

Janissa considered for a few moments, and then smiled lazily, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Well," she hummed throatily. "As long as you don't forget me again, beautiful."

"Of course~"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Roll to confirm, or is Janissa on-side?)  
> Inks: (I figure Inks overpaid here, but I'm not too worried about that)  
> ST: ((Yeah, she's on-side. JAnissa will raise a bunch of queries about a lowered water tax for her brothels and pleasure-houses in exchange for using them to calm the population down and get them to better-tolerate the recent upheavals. And then quibble a lot over the details.))  
> Inks: (Huzzah!)  
> Inks: (That about covers the trivial actions then, so now we resolve the strategic actions?)  
> ST: ((Indeed! So. Inks is taking two Major - homunculus and politics - and one minor; spell-research. What are Pipera is assisting Inks with Iblan politicking as a Minor. Vahti and Tatters are undefined.))  
> Inks: (Hmm. ARe you asking how Pipera is assisting Inks, or just saying that Pipera is Assisting?)  
> ST: ((Assisting is her Minor. What's her Major?))  
> ST: ((And what are the actions for Vahti and Tatters?))  
> Inks: (Oh, okay! Wow. Hmm. Okay, Pipera's good at bureaucracies and securing contacts... )  
> Inks: (Okay, got an idea: Vahti is being sent over to Piercing Sun for more Training, which you can define as 'what Sun wants'- Inks sent her over with instruction of 'I am looking for a second in command, train accordingly').  
> Inks: (So that covers Vahti. Pipera... Nothing's coming to mind yet, but Tatters- Tatters I want to start investigating the courts of the dead and how they interact with House Iblan- and in broader strokes 'Gather information about the ancestor cult of Iblan')  
> ST: ((Cool, she'll do that as her Major, and take her Minor for her own stuff.))  
> ST: ((While you think on what Pipera is doing, then.))  
> ST: ((Inks' rolls:))  
> ST: ((Homunculus-crafting is made applicable by neomah. Int+Medicine; Diff 5. Neomah assistants add a +2 bonus. Failure will get a subject that may not convince Rankar he has the real Rose Marble.))  
> Inks: (I have Bidaha and Simya as well to invoke, plus summoned neomah. May I stunt?)  
> ST: ((Politicking is an opposed roll (Charisma or Manipulation)+(lower of Socialize or Bureaucracy) roll against Bana, who has a pool of 9.))  
> ST: ((Learning a new spell without the materials to do so is Int+Occult, Diff 3.))  
> ST: ((No Excellencies, and you may indeed stunt.))  
> 

* * *

It was probably one of her most ambitious sorcerous projects yet- saving Rose Marble. It required a number of important steps that had to be completed in order, under secrecy and a number of others competing factors. She was confident though that she could handle it.

Summoned Neomah, as well as Bidaha and Simya, were brought in to help with the construction of a homunculous- a sorcerous meat-apparatus that would evoke the qualities and reactions of a living person. It was grisly, awful work that involved a number of failed experiments.

Interviews with Rose Marble helped Inks develop the sorcerous means of carefully encoding the woman's mannerisms and personality into the construct as well- a simulacrum of the soul that would pass muster. The final step would be Rose's own face- the woman anethestized and her features carefully extracted before being placed upon the effigy. The woman herself would sleep through the procedure and have her face restored without a mark in some weeks time.

Now all that was left was to assemble the final pieces- sinew and bone, organs that would fail under the right conditions. And to leave signs of damage that explained her otherwise addled behaviors.  
  


>   
> ST: ((3-die stunt for thoroughness and literally carving her face off and grafting it onto a meat-puppet.))  
> ST: ((Diff would be higher if not for your Charms.))  
> Inks: (heh, so int 5 med 5 +2 medicine style, +2 neomah bonus, so that's 14d)  
> Inks: !ex 17; [6, 4, 9, 2, 4, 1, 8, 6, 6, 1, 1, 9, 1, 1, 9, 4, 2] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (...sonnovabitch)  
> Inks: (well, as you say 'May not', not 'Will not')  
> 

It was a living body; a perfect copy of Rose Marble. It had her face - literally - and spoke with her voice. But Inks wasn't satisfied. Not quite. The behaviour was off, the sorcery encoded into it... flawed. It wasn't _perfect_. Perhaps Rankar would damage it to a great enough extent, with enough speed, that he would miss the places where its behaviour fell short. Perhaps not. She'd have to wait and see to find out for sure.

>   
> ST: ((Fail-forward - consequences deferred to whenever Rankar gets round to dealing with it.))  
> Inks: (Acknowledged)  
> ST: ((Oh, before I forget - Janissa and Gion's rolls.))  
> ST: ((Both of them are rolling Int+Bureaucracy to be _pains in the ass_ for Rankar without him noticing they're doing it deliberately. Difficulty is 3, they have a +1 bonus each from Gem's turbulence. Gion's pool is 6, Janissa is delegating to her subordinates who have a pool of 8.))
> 
> ST: !ex 6; ST: : [3, 6, 4, 5, 7, 5] was rolled for 1 success.  
> ST: !ex 8; ST: : [8, 8, 5, 3, 5, 2, 3, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.
> 
> ST: ((... huh.))  
> Inks: (So neither of them get much traction?)  
> ST: ((No, they do.))  
> ST: ((But Rankar becomes aware that the Houses are trying to overwhelm him with work and get an edge for themselves as House Iblan reels.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, fail forward)  
> ST: ((Notably, he doesn't connect this to _Inks_ yet. At present, he thinks they're out to get things for themselves - water tax reduction for Janissa and more influence over Gem's finances for Gion.))  
> Inks: (huzzah!)  
> ST: ((Inks is enhancing these efforts?))  
> Inks: (Enhancing them by way of Indolent Official Charm)  
> Inks: (4m committed per project I want to affect, rolling int/cha+bur at diff 1, external penalty = to project leader's man-soc/2)  
> Inks: (since Inks asked the outright 'don't try to make them go faster', we can assume she autopasses. They take [Time x Essece] faster to even get started, and we can apply the same to 'Torture Rose Marble')  
> ST: ((Nice. That drags things out for the season with ease.))  
> ST: ((So, rolloff against Bana.))  
> ST: ((Yup.))  
> 

When not arms deep in viscera and sorcerous lore, Inks and Pipera both became familiar faces in the halls of the Iblan nobility. She already had Jad Raheem in her pocket, and from there Inks and Pipera both lobbied the courts and cliques- both to see who did align with her interests.

Some potential councilors were young and dynamic, others old and conservative. Some alinged with Bana, others did not. They all merged into a blur of Iblan-esque features and politics. Pipera was in her element, whispering intruige into Inks's ears while Inks herself quietly and expertly leveraged the prices of loyalty where appropriate.

All the while, she publicly made her case, that she was Good for House Iblan, that her presence and power was important and worthwhile!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, so some broad strokes Charm use- Mastery of Small Manners and if possible, 'Wise-Eyed Courtier Method' to develop the unit policy of 'Inks is a positive influence'. So I'll need a unit magnitude and likely Bana's Dodge MDV)  
> Inks: (This is separate from the 'Contested roll)  
> Inks: (but I have time to do it so why not?)  
> ST: ((Mag 3 - there are a few dozen potential candidates or important figures to be aware of. Bana's MDV is 5.))  
> Inks: (Okay, so WECM is Diff 1, penalty of 6; can I apply excellencies to this charm roll, but not the strategic action?)  
> ST: ((Yes, though there's also a general Principle against newbie member Inks getting involved with council stuff that boosts the MDV by 2.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +5 -8 "WECM"; [8, 1, 3, 9, 5, 8, 8, 8, 10, 7, 8, 1, 3] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Wooo! Iblan court now has the Illusion Effect instilled, which can be resisted with unit Loyalty)  
> Inks: (1 loyalty to ignore it for a scene, 6 loyalty total to break it entirely  
> Inks: (stunt bonus on the contested roll, as well as any bonus for the new court policy?)  
> ST: ((Okay, that has you effectively speak to a 3-dot Principle, negating the 2-dot one against you getting involved in this stuff and giving you 1 bonus success over Bana. 2-dot stunt.))  
> Inks: !ex 12 +1; [6, 2, 5, 5, 7, 3, 2, 8, 6, 9, 6, 9] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Bana's gonna roll 9d to beat 5, herewego.jpg)  
> ST: !ex 9; ST: : [4, 8, 3, 10, 3, 8, 9, 10, 8] was rolled for 8 successes.
> 
> ST: ((Jesus, the dice do _not_ like you today.))  
> Inks: (geez!)  
> ST: ((Okay, so - heh. Iiiiinteresting.))
> 
> ST: ((So Bana gets her preferred conservatives on the council - but they're still affected by Inks' Illusion, and she still has Flickering Gold and Jad Raheem loyal to her. Meaning that we have a very interesting split council situation.))  
> Inks: (Neat)  
> Inks: (Glad I used WECM then!)  
> ST: ((Two for Inks, one against, one basically not caring, and three divided.))  
> Inks: (Nice)  
> ST: ((Okay, last one; Int+Occult for ur spell-wrenching from THE FABRIC OF CREATION ITSELF, HEEDLESS OF IGNORANCE.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; [5, 10, 7, 3, 7, 9, 5, 8, 1] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> Inks: (Still drawing a blank for Pipera, and then Tatters has her actions)  
> 

Despite her efforts to influence the selection of the new council members; Inks was just a bit too much of a newcomer, a little too untrusted by the House at large. Iblan Bana was retired from her headship of the family, but still commanded considerable influence, which she used to great effect. One by one; new conservative faces filled the empty seats of Omar, Ayla and Rose Marble over the course of the season.

Still, Inks didn't let her get away with everything. Conservative the new faces might be, but she'd made sure they knew she was an Iblan now, and meant well for the family. They'd likely patronise her down from trying to meddle in high-level affairs of the house... but they wouldn't act against her, either.

And in the meantime, she'd spent days staring into the blinding light of the sun, watching how Celi's innate fires commanded awe and respect from those around her, cataloging the essence-patterns in the hoods of cobras. Setting all of that together, she'd mastered a new spell - a spell that drew on her beauty and allure to hypnotise the minds of men to her bidding.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Nice. So that covers the season...)  
> ST: ((Tatters rolls Int+Investigation at Diff 2 to learn about the ghosts of Gem.))  
> ST: ((2+3+2 tool bonus from knowing the spell Five Gifts and drawing on her Status 2 in Dead Gem and Dead Cahzor gives her 9 dice.))  
> ST: !ex 9; ST: [7, 7, 6, 3, 9, 6, 4, 6, 3] was rolled for 3 successes.
> 
> ST: ((She passes.))  
> Inks: (Rankar's deadline was end of Resplendent Earth, which we covered in sessions 52-54, so this session advances us through the end of Descending Wood RY770)  
> ST: ((Awesome. And we shall pick up as you hand over the meat-doll and can turn your attention towards arming up, with Iblan's resources behind you.))  
> ST: ((End of session, 4xp+1mxp.))  
> Inks: (no sxp?)  
> ST: ((Oh shit, yeah, you made the homunculus.))  
> ST: ((Yes, +5 Sxp.))
> 
> Inks: Was a fun session ! Thank you for running as always  
> Inks: anything you liked about it?  
> ST: I was... genuinely surprised at your bad luck with rolls, but I feel that some of the fail-fowards are going to make for a more interesting dynamic? Especially with House Iblan, since that split council won't force a sidequest before you can go after El Galabi, and the _act_ of going after El Galabi may alter the dynamics there.  
> ST: And lead to interesting play afterwards.  
> Inks: yeah! I admit I'm cautiously optimistic re: fail-forward  
> Inks: like, I haven't had a lot of good experiences with it yet, but i think we both are interested in exploring how things go  
> Inks: really disappointed in that 17d roll though  
> Inks: That being said I figure there's an easy trick- we just get Rankar mad enough that he pushes too hard and the homunculous dies ahead of schedule  
> Inks: oh yeah for the sake of logging  
> Inks: what would Vahti get trained in ?  
> ST: Not sure yet. I'll edit her character sheet to take it into account, but certainly, expect her to be a more fighty-capable character when you get to the El Galabi assault.  
> Inks: Cool. Are you using the sheet I made for her, or one you had?  
> ST: I had one, but I think I synced it with yours.  
> Inks: cool  
> Inks: alright, that covers everything i think. I had fun, and I hope you did too!  
> Inks: looking forward to next week  
> ST: ^_^  
> 


	56. Chapter 56: Campaign to El Galabi Part 1

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 56 - new arc! El Galabi!))  
> 

The Fire Mountains begin at the northern point of the Hook, where stands the famous House of Tumbling Sands. The mighty peaks; growing in height, breadth and imposing, craggy dominance as they go, stretch down past the Lap and the satrapy of An Teng; joined by the narrow and precarious Golden Pass. By the time they divide the deep jungles of the Silent Crescent from the bustling Firepeak Pave, the average mountain stands three kilometres above sea level, and the range is almost a thousand kilometres across.

It's the far south, though, where the real giants gather. The infamous shape of Rankar Peak is a five-kilometre crag that looms above Gem, and the volcano-domain of Tekutali Fire-in-Earth is half that height again. There is no man or woman in this fallen age who knows the breadth of the Firepeaks as they spill out into the Wyld-tainted land south of the Burning Wastes, and what sky-ripping monters might lurk beyond the stable laws of Fate, few dare to speculate. 

Because here is the not-so-secret truth of the Fire Mountains: every single mountain in the range was born from magma. Most of them were active in the youngest days of Creation, well before humanity set foot on mortal soil, and most became extinct well before the Age of Dreams was over. But nonetheless, even now, one in ten of the stone spires that mark Gem's western horizon is a volcano; slumbering and dreaming molten dreams of fire and stone. 

Seven hundred and seventy years ago, every single volcano spoke with a single voice - Rankar Peak included - and their combined fury wiped away the raksha hordes that were pouring into Creation from the Wyld. Now, most are content in their dormancy, waking only every few centuries to yawn smoke and ash into the sky and stretch limbs of rock and lava. Most of these eruptions are small, but their number means that it is rare to see three seasons in a row without one somewhere in the range, and unheard of for a season of Fire to go by without one. 

Unfortunately, "unheard of" seemed to be making a comeback this year.

* * *

"I said," Pipera repeated, "we have word of an eruption of oil, rather than lava. According to Etiyadi, it was in the far south of her territory, along the border between her and Pangasutri. According to her reports, it's iridescent, stinks like a mixture of rotten eggs and blood, and is both highly caustic and extremely flammable. It's been burning for a week as of her message being sent, with no signs of stopping, and it's melting through rock as it expands. It flows much faster than lava, too." 

She consulted the message again - mostly for show, as she would have memorized something like this. "No casualties, but only because it was in an isolated area. The nearby villages have been evacuated, and one of the secondary trade passes between Pangasutri and Etiyadi has been cordoned off." Fixing Inks with a serious look, Pipera purses her lips. "Inks. In your estimation; how likely is this to be a result of Wyld-taint?"

Humming, Inks nodded- Pipera had already covered the salient details, and after their brush with Impacci's Vengeance, Inks had availed herself of Gem's various histories regarding the tides of unreal that pushed up across the world. Even so something niggling caught her mind- she turned it over in her head as she thought.  
"That's a very sound theory- but I admit I could also consider it a sign of malfean influences- or even necrotic. Sulfurous fumes, oil and blood sound appropriate for Wyld, Hellish and Underworld incursions... I'd need to examine it to be sure. Or samples."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Gonna roll int+occult, 9d +4 sux)  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +4;[2, 9, 2, 7, 6, 6, 10, 2, 8] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((It occurs to Inks that a very, very powerful Wyldstorm rolled over those mountains last Calibration, and it is almost Calibration again - the last month of Fire, which means the Loom of Fate is at its weakest and buggiest with all the Fate errors of the year having built up. So likely it is wyld taint).  
>  ST: ((Yup. And likely there are a lot of other wyld-tainted volcanos waiting like timebombs. Nasty little surprises Impacci's Vengeance left behind.))  
>  ST: ((Notably, this is going to be a factor in the assault on El Galabi. Because it's _in_ those mountains.))  
> 

"So... " Inks toyed with a lock of hair, smiling faintly. "I would almost consider... We're going to need to make some diplomatic inroads building up to El Galabi. It's a topic of interest to the Coxati in general, since I'll have to muster an expedition force way out there anyway."

Pipera's nod was professionally neutral as always, long used to Inks's method of talking her ideas out. "So perhaps we can strike a two-for-one here. We head out on a consultancy run with a dash of diplomacy. Pangasutri's going to be the hard case to crack though...." 

"I could in theory lead Xandia along if I can help her get Pangasutri on board with her coalition- if they aren't already, but I'd rather not promise that up front either..." She trailed off, smiling.

"He isn't," Pipera says, after consulting her memory briefly. "In fact, he was notably aggressive to her - enough that she ceded contested territory to Etiyadi and Akna to put a buffer between them. Hmm." She purses her lips. "You're right, he won't be easy to convince. But I would advise waiting before setting out, and attending to affairs in Gem. Calibration is almost upon us, and," she gives a razor-thin smile, "one year's end spent exposed on those mountains was quite enough for a lifetime, thank you."

"Of course!" Inks grinned. She clapped her hands, teeth showing. "Objectives! Secure social and diplomatic capital to retake El Galabi. Build and provision the expedition force itself. Lastly- campaign to the city itself and cleanse the shadowland!" She rubbed her hands together, frowning then. "Right- have to figure out how to _cleanse the shadowland_ too."

"Indeed. So, shall we review what you currently have?" 

Pipera leads them into her office, where her expensive hardwood desk is covered with paper. Seating herself at it - and letting Inks drape herself artfully over the lounging chair that's there for her to artfully drape herself over it - Pipera clears a space and starts laying out folders. 

"First of all, we have Rankar. He's currently pleased with you regarding the Rose Marble matter - assuming he doesn't see through it - and he's promised support from Gem's coffers and guard force for an assault on El Galabi if it improves Gem's ability to feed itself. 

"Then there is of course Piercing Sun. He's been drilling his Rangers ever since you healed him, and I understand they've made several expeditions to equip and blood the newer generations. Using them _will_ have consequences - there are few groups within a thousand miles who don't feel some hostility or fear towards Piercing Sun, so his presence in the army will likely make it harder to gain allies. But the man himself is experienced and deadly - both of which may be needed against the yidak lord we suspect resides in the temple." 

Her fingers play over the map. "Also in Gem, we have the mercenary market. Sixth Scorpion hosts the largest mercenary market front, but when you total all the killers-for-hire available in the city, Gem hosts one of largest and most diverse on the Pave. Their quality... varies, and it would be expensive to make a large force of them, but they'll take orders and work with anyone. Many will also come equipped with their own weapons - including many, many firewands. The Arbani family is on good terms with the mercenary trade." 

There's a pause. Two more folders remain, but Pipera seems notably reluctant to address either of them.

Nodding, Inks reaches over to pluck a morsel from one of the chilled fruit bowls Pipera keeps as an indulgence. "Logical- my thinking is to... either use Rankar as much as possible before he has a chance to find out about any deception, or to avoid binding myself to him much further... I'll likely do the former, planning to keep him distracted from... sating himself." 

"I at least want to train _with_ the Rangers, if not actually use them. I do wish I could bring Sun without consequence, but that's probably not going to happen- and I'll have to figure out how to convince him to _stay_ if it comes to that." 

"Amusingly, I can use Sun's inclusion as a bargaining chip among the Coxati. I'd need to frame the argument a certain way- but it'd be entertaining if they give _me_ support in exchange for him not being there." 

Glancing at the other two folders, Inks cocked her head. "I'm guessing one of those is Cahzor- the Deyha, and the other might have something to do with House Iblan?"  
Pipera's face looks like she's just eaten a lemon. "Yes," she admits grudgingly. "The deyha are crude, brutal and violent, but it's impossible to say that they don't make for good muscle. And for something like this, they would be relatively easy - if expensive - to hire. The issue would be getting them to leave again, and of course the problems that always come up when working with deyha." She sniffs in distaste and rests a hand on the other folder. 

"Now, I haven't noted what support we might be able to get from the Coxati, because there's no way to judge that accurately - but you're right, it is a potential base of support. _This_... is one that I heavily recommend not using, but which I am including for completeness's sake." 

She flips it open, spins it round and presents it to Inks, who reads the title. 

The cult of the Burning God.

"Those are the folks that Anam described out on the Anam Way." Inks nodded. She sat up straight, giving Pipera her full and undivided attention. "What's your reservation?"

"Back in his glory days," says Pipera with heavy sarcasm, "Piercing Sun travelled far and wide in his exploits and campaigns. The main force he used was his Rangers, and he supplemented them with mercenary support. But several groups marched - or perhaps a better word would be _swarmed_ \- under his banner. 

She passes the file over, letting Inks look through it. "To many people of the Anam Way, he is a divine figure," she says in clipped tones. "A burning god who gathered their tribes with promises of war and raiding, who led them to plunder and burn the settled cities to the west, who let them overrun his foes in hordes of screaming barbarians and take what they could carry and then leave, back to the Anam Way. They still worship him there - and I have no doubt that if he called, they would answer."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So this is a thing that Piercing Sun used quite a lot - and which is drawn from real life. Bring along a large, disorganised group of raiders, let them do what they do, and what they can take is their pay. If you've ever seen the Lawrence of Arabia film, it's much like what he did with the arabs. And has the same downside - that when they've raided their fill and loaded down their camels, they go home. Also things like "rules of civilized warfare" and "military discipline" are largely foreign to people who make their lives on the Bloody Sands.))  
>  Inks: (Logical!)  
>  ST: ((But that would get you the biggest group by far, and they wouldn't lack for morale.))  
> 

Inks let out a low whistle. "Yeaah I don't think I want to mess with that..." She couldn't fault the strategy, or the terrible cunning Piercing Sun had demonstrated over his career. In the immediate though, she wanted to consider Pipera. "As always, your work is impeccable. I'm going to do something nice for you-" She grinned at the way Pipera's face immediately closed off. "Not sure what- but feel free to drop a hint or two."

There's a longish pause as Pipera contemplates whether or not to open up, before she turns back to her paperwork. But as Inks shrugs ruefully and leaves the room, a whisper finds its way to her ear.

 _"Find me a way to sail again,"_ Pipera breathes, so quiet no other could hear it.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Hnngggg)  
>  Inks: (Does Pipera want to be a sky-merchant~?)  
>  Inks: (half joking, if she's afraid of water, sky-ships might be her bag)  
>  ST: ((Keel Cleaves the Clouds _would_ be a very nice thing for her. Or whatever that spell is that lets you sail through the land.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)  
>  Inks: (Okay, so that's a good scene segue. What to do next... )  
>  ST: ((Decide what you're gonna do. Both in terms of "Calibration's almost here", and also "there are three factions in Gem you can approach about support, who do you go with?))  
>  Inks: (Leaning towards Rankar's support, but I have to talk to Piercing Sun about his involvement or lackthereof... and I need to start doing research on both the army composition, and the methods of cleaningi the shadowland. )  
>  Inks: (Basically I want to draft the army out on paper first- I'm confident that Inks can draw a decent map of El Galabi + access to records here in Gem for tactical and strategic planning)  
>  Inks: (So... int+war research action and int+occult research action, and then a Trivial Action for each Piercing Sun and Rankar? Open to suggestions?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, okay. Is Inks going to make any active moves before Calibration beyond sounding people out?))  
>  Inks: (I don't know what active moves I can take- I'm still trying to find my feet after the hiatus)  
>  ST: ((I mean like "actually starting to gather and equip an army".))  
>  ST: ((Or travelling to the Coxati. Pipera made the case that it might be better to wait a few weeks for the new year and do stuff just in Gem until Calibration has passed.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha- Inks is going to stay in Gem this year- Oh! That probably gives her time to source some personal equipment for herself)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool! Then yes, roll me Int+Bureaucracy for that at... what level of equipment is she going for?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... I am going to stunt that!)  
> 

With time ahead of her leading up to Calibration, Inks pursued the markets of Gem for her personal equipment and amusement. She entertained herself by purchasing whole market stalls for the day and selling the goods and services for fantastic profits, and built up a growing network of contacts and more.

She had learned her lesson though last time, choosing instead to deploy Pipera incognito to visit the Sun Market (and promising her private hours in the bath as payment for the chore). In both cases, Inks sought out not only the finest masterworks of arms and armor- but the broke castoffs and salvage that many would gladly fob off on the ignorant or unassuming- not that she paid full price anyway.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Okay- So time spent to maybe develop Contacts in the markets, as well as looking for not only Top Tier Armor from prior eras, but armor that most mortal savants cannot fix- Inks however likely CAN)  
>  Inks: (Frugal Merchant and Insightful Buyer Technique applying as appropriate- stunt value and may I add excellency?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Okay. 2-dot stunt, roll at Diff 5 for _top-tier_ armour at a -5 external penalty for trying to get her hands on Shogunate gear. Thresholds will matter.))  
>  Inks: (IBT drops the penalty down to -1, so Diff 5 -1 external, +3 style, +2 stunt. 25d total!)  
>  Inks: !ex 25 -1; [10, 1, 1, 3, 6, 4, 1, 4, 4, 10, 4, 8, 8, 4, 10, 10, 3, 8, 5, 8, 4, 2, 6, 7, 10] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold 9)  
>  ST: ((Niiiice. Okay, so... one moment...))  
> 

Her efforts didn't just bear fruit. They bore _orchards_. Not only did Inks find a breastplate of overlapping jade-alloy plates attached to a ripped and torn black bodysuit, she also found an almost-complete set of light armour that was missing only the boots.

She also happened across - and snapped up - a strange set set of ankle and wrist bracers full of electrum circuitry that had been catastrophically blown out by, as far as she could tell, either a ridiculously massive essence discharge or multiple direct lightning strikes. They were useless junk, but she was reasonably confident she could restore them, given time.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so. Inks has laid her hands on the following:))  
>  ST: ((One (1) almost entirely complete set of Ashigaru Skirmish Armour from WotLA pg79, complete with visor, filtration baffles and camouflage system.))  
>  ST: ((One (1) breastplate from a set of gunzosha commando armour, sans arms, legs and helmet. The resiliency aug works fine, but Inks is pretty sure the incomplete nature of the set means she can get either the camouflage system or the vitality system working - not both. She can use the breastplate with the helmet and arm/leg bits from the ashigaru armour, though the camo system is mostly in the breastplate of that one too.))  
>  ST: ((One (1) set of wrist and ankle bracers that are full of essence-circuitry that is, currently, fused and useless slag. But she's, like, 60% sure she can repair it. And then figure out what it is.))  
>  ST: ((She has spent Res 5 obtaining these.))  
>  Inks: (Considering it would've probably cost like Capital 7+ without Frugal Merchant...)  
>  ST: ((Oh, and she can let someone else use the ashigaru breastplate if she uses the gunzosha one with the arm/leg/helmet bits.))  
>  Inks: (It's an interesting precedent that you're letting me swap the components around)  
>  Inks: (are the slagged bracers a valid target for Crack-Mending Technique?)  
>  ST: ((Normal people couldn't. But Inks is a genius craftswoman and can jury-rig the pieces.))  
>  Inks: (Fascinating)  
>  ST: ((Also these are meant to be used in partial form if necessary. Like, ashigaru armour is designed so you can wear just the breastplate for lesser protection. It's hooking bits of one armour into the breastplate of another that's tricky.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)  
>  ST: ((Crack-Mending is half-applicable to the bracers. It can reduce the time spent fixing the hair-thin circuitry from months to weeks, but it's an artifact so she'll still need magical material for it - primarily some electrum to replace bits. And Shogunate-level tools.))  
>  ST: ((And yes, the gunzosha plate is attached to, sigh, what was originally a black synthetic-leather bodysuit, but is now more of a black synthetic-leather sleeveless and legless leotard.))  
>  ST: ((Which is skintight.))  
>  Inks: (kek)  
>  Inks: (I noticed the ashigaru had missing boots too. Serendipitous)  
>  Inks: (Alright- so Inks has a good starting point on personal protective gear!)  
>  Inks: (That leaves the research actions I mentioned, and enjoying Calibration in exotic Gem)  
>  Inks: (Oh and logically I would send a word back to Etiyadi re: "Yes likely Wyld Taint volcanos, prepare for more.")  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. Okay, so yes, Research on El Galabi. Your action is applicable through a combination of Pipera-fu and Gem/Iblan Backing letting her get at records, and also having been there. Int+War at Diff 3, -4 external penalty from the fact that it's still not much information to go on, and the old maps of the city are... dubiously useful given how much it may have changed.))  
>  Inks: (gonna count this interval as training for War 3 via HAM/LSC... And the first dot in City-Besieging Style from those sorcery books Inks has, so that's 9d; can I excellency?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yes, go on then.))  
>  Inks: (2nd excelleny negates the penalty completely, so I just roll 9d against diff 3)  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [9, 3, 5, 9, 8, 5, 8, 8, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((Nice. Okay, Inks has got a good map of El Galabi, which I will draw up along with some tactical considerations of bits of the city. Stunt her entirely peaceful and contented Calibration celebrations, then. :P))  
>  ST: ((You can check back to Impacci's Vengeance for what Gem natives do.))  
>  Inks: (writans)  
>  Inks: (This may not be as dour as you might expect, but it's very inksian)  
> 

Calibration was one of the most grand equalizers across all of Creation. No matter where you went or how you lived, that time of the year was inescapable. When the walls of the world were thin, and the sky itself seemed to hold it's breath when the sun and moon refused to rise.

In the city, 'safe' was a misnomer, but for many this was a time of ritual feasts and closing business contracts, of great ceremonies and more intimate gatherings that warded the soul against corruption and soothed the mind against it's fears. For many it was a time to make merry, and Inks broke out a fine bottle of wine to toast Vahti, Pipera and herself for their victory over Impacci's vengeance. 

Inks organized a block party, catered by her hand with succulent dishes and rare imports. Maji prowled around in front of the complex, mingling with the bold and boozed, while children laughed and shrieked around the great tiger's bulk. Pesala herself led a small retinue of like-minded children, reveling in the excitement while Ajjim relaxed.

Even Nabijah and her Dehya cohort seemed to mellow out, no longer looking and snarling quite so surly as the five days went on. Each night, Inks would appear on her townhouse balcony overlooking the street, in a new glorious gown, commencing the festivities with a ritual casting of candied Essence that delighted the locals before mingling the night away. 

Prayers were said, sacrifices made to all, and no small amount of fun was had!  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha+Expression to put on a rockin' good party that gets everyone's spirits up and helps them put the scary wyld stuff out of their minds. Diff 3 base, thresholds make for a better time. Excellency-OK, 2-die stunt.))  
>  ST: ((+3 bonus from good food and a gorgeous host.))  
>  Inks: (Socialize or Presence? I don't ahve Expression)  
>  ST: ((... whoops. Uh, Performance. It's basically a party for multiple people, so it's Performance-linked.))  
>  Inks: (I have zero performance sadly. My argument is that Performane is Singing, Dancing, Oratory, Prayer. Socialize is 'Social groups, gathering, culture')  
>  Inks: (I mean it'd honestly be performance/socialize, and of the two, Inks is better at Socialize)  
>  Inks: (ankd I could use Sun Queen Admiration Style in the latter case)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I'd argue that Performance covers "entertainment". But alright, you can use Socialise.))  
>  Inks: (Wonderful! Cha 4 Socialize 4 + +3 style + 1d mastery bonus, +2 stunt, +3 bonus, +8d excellency, total 25d!)  
>  Inks: !ex 25; [9, 5, 4, 4, 10, 3, 8, 10, 6, 6, 2, 2, 3, 8, 2, 8, 10, 7, 3, 2, 4, 4, 8, 5, 3] was rolled for 12 successes.  
>  Inks: (Hells yeah)  
> 

It was a very, very good party. There will probably be stories about it for the next year or so - until the one she throws _next_ Calibration, of course. Pipera is reclusive for most of the five-day period, conducting her private rituals sequestered away in her quarters, but she comes out now and then to spend time with Inks during the quieter periods, and seems in... better spirits than last year. She isn't eyeing the booze, at least.

Perhaps El Galabi is giving her a goal to look ahead to.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (is it still Calibration?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah.))  
>  ST: ((Last year, Inks remembers, Pipera very nearly got _blind drunk_ \- her fleet got killed at Calibration by the Dead thing that wiped it out.))  
>  Inks: (Right)  
> 

The central courtyard was a riot of citizens mingling with each other and Inks's staff- Nabijah stood head and shoulders above most of the crowd, boasting about some feat of prowess or how she fearlessly confronted the demons of Calibration years past- until one of her lieutenants snarked back at her and the idle dominance play devolved into a good-natured scuffle.

Sitting down on a plush bench next to Pipera, Inks watched with a grin as Nabijah and her fellow tumbled, cursing violently unto the baths, until the both came up for air covered in floating flower blossoms and smelling far too perfumed for comfort. A beat later they burst out laughing as Nabijah secured her authority with a headlock.  
Sipping her own glass of wine, Inks hummed. "... I want to say something- but all I can think to ask is 'are you having fun' or 'how are you doing'? And I'm sorry I just can't help but imagine you shooting back with- " 

"'Fun?'" Inks grins in an _awful_ impersonation of Pipera's cadence. "'That's not a word- I'd have heard of it.' Or something like that..."  
Pipera eyes her neutrally, not at all impressed by the imitation. She sighs, and sits back a little in her chair. "This time of year is always hard," she murmurs. "Remembering. I don't know if El Galabi makes it better or worse." She shudders. "We'll be able to fight back this time. But... something else like that monster..."  
Her eyes cloud over and go faraway for a moment, before she shakes herself out of whatever flashback she was seeing with another shudder.

Inks's hand was already moving to pull her into a hug, but she stopped herself all the same. "I... " She fell silent again, just doing her best to radiate a warm and reassuring presence.

"Perhaps..." Pipera murmurs, and falls silent for a moment longer. Then - with a glance and a roll of her eyes at Vahti, who is describing in great and somewhat exaggerated detail the account of her personal defeat of the chaos lord that had been living within Gem itself, complete with pantomimed motions - she stands and beckons Inks towards the warded-off rooms, and privacy.

* * *

Intrigued, Inks followed with a soft smile. Pipera was through the door first, and then Inks followed. She turned to watch the other woman close the panel with an audible, final click.

Pipera was rigid in the middle of the room. After a moment, she sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, and gestured to Inks to take the chair.  
"You saw the... thing, down in the shadowmines," she says. "And you've been around being of power - your mentor, Tekutali. But I don't think you've met many Dead, or many things with the strength we may be facing in the temple. Am I correct?"

Inks shook her head. "No, this'll be the first- I did see an _ancient_ ghost down in the Iblan Ancestor crypts, but I figured it was... not of a particularly warlike aspect. Still very ghastly."

Pipera's lips thin, but she puts that aside and nods, leaning forward and clasping her hands together; elbows resting on her knees. 

"Then," she says to the floor, "telling you this may prepare you for what we're going to face." 

To Inks, this sounds rather like a justification a ferociously private woman might make for why getting something that's been weighing on her for half a decade or more off her chest is a sound and logical decision that's definitely not motivated by her personal feelings at all. But she doesn't mention that out loud. 

"It was the year's end," Pipera begins her story. "We had meant to dock at Liu Vedin for Calibration, but the winds had shifted, so we were still three days out from it. I was on Little Wing, testing the new sail - we were trailing on the port side of the fleet. Mother was up on the Maela's Breath in front." 

"It was... it was going well, for the first two days. Sailing during Calibration is always tricky, but we had done it before once or twice, and we had a few bound windknots we could release when we began to flag. We made it two days without trouble, singing to thank the Dragons in their slumber. Then..."

She bites her lip, eyes haunted. Inks sees a bead of blood trickle down her chin, but Pipera doesn't seem to notice; staring through the floor and the years alike without seeing. 

"It began... the sea turned _black_. Not the darkness it holds at night... more like ink. Fish started to surface all around us - pale shapes, upside-down and still in the water. Dead, and already rotting. The smell filled the air." 

"At first we thought it was something environmental. A poison in the water or an oil from the seabed - or a wound in the world. We sped up and tried to go through it with a windknot. But the winds _twisted_. Broke apart and went in all directions, instead of one. Then a miasma rose from the water, and started to eat into..." she shakes her head. "Everything. The sails, mostly. Cloth rotted and fell in clumps. But the wood of the ships started to rot and weaken too. Anywhere the black mist touched, skin blemished. Like... fungus taking root." 

Her knuckles whiten around each other. "Then we saw the shape in the water. It was huge. Orca-sized. It circled us for hours - it wasn't cautious, you understand," she adds, glancing up with a terrible dead look in her eyes. "It wasn't afraid. It was toying with us. Playing with its food." 

"We shot at it, tried to throw fire, cast our best banishments. Nothing worked. And when Mother tried to release another trapped wind, it just..." She trails off for a moment, reliving the scene. "It got bored of playing. It went _through_ the Maela's Breath. Just... tore through it. Like Chronicle. And where they fell into the water, they started to decay, while they were still..." 

Breaking off, Pipera goes silent for a moment. When she speaks again, it's in a more controlled tone. "We had five ships. It spent all day toying with them. Every few hours, it would get bored and destroy another, scattering those onboard. Little Wing was last. I don't know why it missed me - maybe because I managed to cling to a large enough chunk of the hull that the water didn't touch me. It... ate... most of the bodies. Maybe all. I passed out at some point, and when I woke, the sun had risen again and I was drifting, and alone."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (...damn)  
> 

At some point, Inks was certain she had stopped breathing- that her _heart_ had stopped beating. The... violence of the decay- it was something she could imagine all too well, and Pipera had _lived it_.

The sound of the party outside was absent, blocked by sorcerous wards and the design of the bedroom itself. Inks moved, slow- steady, inexorable. She sat down next to Pipera on the bed, close enough to feel that the woman was not 'warm' like another body, but pleasantly cool like ocean mists. Awe, pride, compassion and more was plain on Ink's face, and she raised her arms, hoping against all hope that Pipera would accept the comfort she was offering.

Pipera folds into the hug. She's very, very faintly shivering, but as Inks holds her it becomes trembling, and then quiet sobbing. 

"Just..." she forces out. "I didn't... tell you this for p-pity. This is what you're going to be attacking. This is... what they're like."

"Pipera, I don't _do_ pity. I'm a doctor, architect... I _build_. .. And when something or someone gets knocked down, I want to build them back up." She gave Pipera a tighter, more reassuring squeeze, not at all ashamed of her own tears tracking down her cheeks.

Pipera nods jerkily. "Just..." she says, and searches for words for a moment. "Win," she settles on. "When... the _thing_ in the temple comes for you. Know what you're facing. And win."

Nodding, Inks wiped at her cheeks, hesitating a bit before doing the same for Pipera- brushing the tears away with a light touch. She had some hard thinking to do- about Pipera and her role in the plans ahead... but for now she just wanted to be there for her. 

So she did, and she was.

* * *

Calibration passes, as it does every year. In the new light of Air - and the cooler temperatures, or at least "only-moderately-scorching" temperatures - Inks has plans to further. Here in Gem, she has a choice of three sources of support, and abroad she has three more. It's time to start planning out the force she'll assault El Galabi with.

Her plan- in the broadest conceptual strokes, was an aggressive, active campaign. Sweep, conquer and clear sections of the temple-city building by building and block by block. Every bit of land reclaimed from the Underworld was that much more land the dead could not easily cross into. 

That meant she needed at least three core elements to her force- mobile shock infantry that could clear the dead; implacable defenders who would sweep in to secure the area, and combat engineers and thaumaturges who would perform the ritual actions and wardings to cleanse the locale.

The advantage is that it would require a large up front investment of men and material, but a shorter long-term. Instead of a griding campaign, hers would be a lightning raid of scouring sunlight and silver. She consulted the various treatises on the dead, military campaigning and logistics she had access to, interspersed with wargames both historic and organic between her and Piercing Sun. 

She kept her council to herself for the moment, instead planning to bring a more complete plan to her potential backers.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Int+War, stunt, bonuses, Excellency?)  
>  ST: ((Alright, before we roll, you got some non-rolled decisions to make.))  
>  Inks: (kay!)  
>  ST: ((So, you've got three taskforces you want, and as many of six groups to choose from. You can assign more than one group to a taskforce, it'll just take longer to gather them and more to afford them, etc.))
> 
> ST: ((So, your groups are Gem's Guards - heavily armoured, trained for city and palace defence, good in urban, indoor or underground environments. Limited in number, slow, fatigue is an issue.))  
>  ST: ((Gem's Rangers. Highly skilled aggressive all-rounders, probably the most "techy" group with specialists in equipment and engineering, very well outfitted. Cons are the social backlash for using them, and also arguably the fact that Piercing Sun will come along. :P))
> 
> ST: ((Hired mercenaries. Basically the Mario faction - skilled mortal level, medium-tier equipment that's nothing special, no particular outstanding skills. Numbers depend on pay, and their morale may be an issue.))  
>  ST: ((Deyha. Incredibly powerful, highly aggressive, 1CD-tier fighters. Poor discipline, violent, probably won't get along well with any of the other factions.))
> 
> ST: ((Anam raiders. Massively numerous, pretty high morale, generally shit equipment, skills vary wildly but the average will be low.))  
>  ST: ((Coxati - Inks doesn't know what they'll look like.))
> 
> ST: ((And potentially any summoned demons, if she's willing to devote a lot of time to summoning them and then keeping them in one place, etc. Perfectly loyal, but may have issues depending on the breed, as well as backlash for demonology.))
> 
> Inks: (Well, this is only a paper draft of the campaign force, so I hope I can adjust it as needed. And yes, good catch re: Demons)  
>  ST: ((So, decision time! Who is Inks going to try and put where, as a first-draft plan?))
> 
> Inks: (Right now I'm leaning towards Gem Guards, Deyha- how do you want to handle the idea of combat engineers/savants? I admit I kind athink doing the cleansing research roll first is more relevant? That'll influence how I build the force.)
> 
> Inks: (I'm also trying to identify how big a force I need vs if a bigger or smaller force is better, etc.)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay, well, Tatters reports that there are hundreds of yidak in there, possibly as many as a couple of thousand. They'll be better-than-mortal level, but on the other hand, sunlight and your various other advantages over Dead things.))
> 
> ST: ((So, what exactly are you going for with your research roll?))  
>  Inks: (Right, and part of the 'build up' phase is going to be developing sunbombs and enchanted gear as force multipliers)  
>  Inks: (1. Determine if I can pieacemeal cleanse the shadowland, or if I have to do it at a central location; 2. Determine if Inks has to do it all personally and be protected, or if she can train others to do it so she can manage multiple units.)  
>  Inks: (and implicitly determine if closing the shadowland in parts keeps the ghosts from crossing from 'There' to 'Creation' as it's cleansed.)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay, Int+Occult, Diff 4, -3 internal penalty from unfamiliarity with complex shadowland geomancy, offset by a +1 bonus from her prior Dead Stuff Research.))  
>  ST: ((2-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Excellency?)  
>  Inks: (if yes, I can just spend 8m on 2nd excellency to autopass it, and roll 9d for threshold)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, go on.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +4; [6, 8, 10, 10, 2, 2, 2, 2, 5] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold... 5)  
> 

"You look conflicted, boss," was Vahti's greeting after a few days of calculations and consultations with Tatters. "What's wrong?"

The explanation took a while. And had to be repeated with simpler terms, as Inks had just spent several days buried in high-level jargon. But Vahti got it on the second try. 

"So basically, you can't just slowly close up the shadowland bit by bit like tiling over a hole in the floor," she summarises, "but you _can_ put up wards against the Dead that'll push 'em out, and slowly cover the whole city in them, then do whatever thing you need to do to close it yourself in a big sunny ritual whatever." 

"Right," Inks agrees. 

"Buuuut that'll mean training a bunch of people in warding thaumaturgy, and also the Dead might be able to fray the edges of wards and break in so it'll be a constant fight at the edges, and any _really powerful_ Dead will basically be able to just ignore the wards completely," Vahti says. "Yeah, okay, I can see why the confliction. That's kinda good and kinda oh-crap-this-isn't-gonna-be-fun."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (interesting!)  
>  Inks: (So my clear-cleanse strategy is feasible with an adaptation of 'wards' instead of 'actual cleansing')  
>  ST: ((Area denial wards keyed to the Dead over the entire shadowland will have it still be a shadowland, but prevent them from getting in, yes. And then Inks can use Sorcery to flush it.))  
>  Inks: (But as Vahti summarizes- the greater dead can basically wander thorugh the wards, and the lesser dead will try to erode them)  
>  ST: ((The problems with this are that wards can be broken, so placing one won't be a permanent reclaiming of that patch of land, and also they won't work at all on high-Enlightenment Dead, yes.))  
>  ST: ((Tatters isn't sure about the lesser dead fraying the wards, but they _were_ monks and trained thaumaturges in life.))  
>  Inks: (I already have precedent with Incantation of Spirital Discretion, the TCS spell....)  
>  Inks: (...huh. So that spell doesn't say how large the area it affects, so... based on the size of the ritual circle itself?)  
>  ST: ((Actually, I was looking at wards from Oanedol's. Page 141.)  
>  Inks: (I figured! I'm just saying Inks has the spell as well for research quality bonuses)  
>  ST: ((Specifically, Ward Against (Creature) and Greater Ward Against (Creature).))  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: (the spell is gonna be useful either way)  
>  Inks: (I feel safe in assuming that since we're using Styles, the trick here is that Inks can raise traits to make 'thaumaturges' who can learn these warding and exorcism powers)  
>  Inks: (who can consistently roll to pass the ritual action checks)  
>  ST: ((Yup. And then you can basically tile the city in 20-yard square chunks.))  
>  Inks: (how big is the city/shadowland?)  
>  ST: ((Big enough that it'll be the long strategic war thing you were looking for with rolling in to take Sector A3 being abstracted into getting the whole thing covered with wards and then defending it.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, so sweep and clear sections, ward them and then move on. I tihnk this is workable!)  
> 

Finally, Inks nodded to Vahti, who was all too eager to dig her fingers into Inks's neck while she agreed. "Pretty much- we'll need enough specialists and heavy combat troops to take down any larger foes- plus me as combat support. Depending on how the geomancy works, I could in theory go for a 'narrow-deep' strategy and target the geomantic center of the shadowland... "

"But that'd mean opening a constantly widening front line on two sides, which would probably suck."

"That sound like it'd definitely suck, yeah," Vahti agrees. "So, who ya gonna go with? The Rangers? I bet the Rangers prob'ly know about occult stuff, with all the fae they fight. Ooo, or you could ask Tatters if she has any other exorcist friends!" She pauses. "Or you could, if she had friends. Besides us. Kinda."

"I'm leaning towards the Gem Guard, Deyha, and if I can get the Coxati to stay calm, the Rangers, yes. Then a core of engineer-thaumaturges to actually do the warding while those three forces sweep, defend and support each other..." 

Changing positions Inks stood up and invited Vahti to stand in front of a large map hung from one of the archways throughout the townhouse. An enlarged map of El Galabi and it's surrounding slopes stretched out nearly twelve feet in all directions- packed with detail. 

Vahti blinked as Inks hugged her from behind, the shorter woman fidgeted. "How long have you been working on this?" 

Inks linked her hands around Vahti's middle and shrugged. "Few hours, less than a day, tops."

"Always an overachiever, boss," Vahti grins at her. "Who're you gonna start with, then? Rankar or Piercing Sun?"

"...uuuughhh. Piercing Sun. We should talk to Pipera first, see if I can finagle a gift he might like...."

* * *

Happily, Pipera took one look at the armour Inks had sourced for herself and had flatly stated that the old warhawk would no doubt be _delighted_ at the knowledge that his "apprentice" had some proper equipment. She also said he'd probably demand she test it out against him at some point, but hopefully Inks could put that off until she'd cleared her to-do list of things that would be difficult to do while covered in bruises.

Armed with those _heartening_ reassurances, Inks and Vahti both trooped over to the ranger enclaves- it seemed every season the redoubts and fortresses pushed out a little bit further into the pave and sands. It did not take long for the Rangers to direct her to Piercing Sun.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Is she wearing her armour?))  
>  Inks: (Sure, let's say she's trying the Ashigaru out- having improvised a pair of boots for it along the way. Vahti is attired for combat/physicality as well, but more about generating lots of fire to use)  
> 

They've interrupted her mentor in all things violent and destructive during a late breakfast, and his daughter Sagacious Wing is in attendance. He's listening offhandedly to a report about 'unusual watcher activity reported in southern Payumi', but looks up as Inks enters. The light powered armour she's in immediately gets his attention, and he breaks into a ferocious grin.

"Well _well_ ," he crows. "What have we here, eh? Went and got yourself some decent armour, did you?" His hooded eyes rake over her, then turn to his daughter. "Wing! Classify it!" 

Elemi Sagacious Wing takes a long look at Inks. She's still huge; taller even than Inks, like a great mountain of basalt. But for all her earthen nature, there's a spark of fire in her gaze that reminds the world that volcanic stone was once molten, and could be someday again. 

"Ashigaru armour," she says after a moment's consideration. "Boots missing. Fourteenth century or later; lacking the streamlining of earlier models. Weak points at the insides of the elbows and the armpits, but good coverage otherwise." 

Piercing Sun nods, apparently finding this acceptable, and beckons Inks over. "So then, sun girl. Finally decided you needed some metal between you and the world. What've you got planned, and why should I help you with it?"

Standing tall with the helmet in the crook of her arm, Inks smiled, quashing the hesitance she felt deep down. "I am planning the campaign against El Galabi, to cleanse the shadowlands and reclaim it. To do that I need manpower and material." .

She did not mince words, cutting to the core of the issue and laying out her draft, only omitting the Burning Tribe as an option- it was not something she wanted to deal with. "In essence, you and your Rangers are an asset I cannot ignore, but using you has a political cost." 

"Before you scowl and huff about 'not giving a sand-blasted damn' about how anyone else feels about you, the fact is that _I_ have to care. So this is how this is going to go. I would _like_ to have you on my side against the dead of El Galabi. I would _like_ your Rangers glorious assistance." 

"I do not however, want to _ruin_ my good relations with the Coxati region and so on. They're going to take issue with your involvement- to the point of marhsalling a force to counter us, simply because El Galabi is a terrible strategic asset for Gem." 

Piercing Sun's derisive snort was deafening, but he remained begrudgingly silent. "Food, a forward operating base- an army that can reprovision itself right there and poised to march on Pangastutri if not others. It's not a war I'm interested in fighting and not one I'm going to start." 

"But it may please you to note that your involvement or the _threat_ of your involvement carries weight. It's a big stick I can levy in negotations when I start making my diplomatic circuit of the Coxati nation-states. I could only imagine the concessions they might offer just to keep you here, far and away from their mountains." 

"So that's the plan, and that's the challenge." She lifted her chin and stared the old man right in the eye. "What do you think?"

Stroking his beard, the old dragon rises from his chair and paces towards Inks and Vahti. He moves like a mountain lion; all predatorial grace and hungry focus. "Big plans, sun gal. And they aren't bad ones, I'll give you that. But you're glossing over the important part. Have you ever fought one of the Greater Dead before? Have you any idea what they're like to face?"

"I've only heard stories." She admitted without fear. "I'm doing my best to prepare, but very little would beat experience."

"Aye," he smirks, circling around her. She feels his gaze on the back of her neck like the heat of a fire, or the first prickles of sunburn. "And would you look at that? Who here has experience with such things?" A wave of his hand encompasses both himself and his daughter. "You'll be hard-pressed to find any others within a thousand miles who can stand against whatever monster lurks in that temple, and I think you know that all too well." 

Sauntering back to the table, he falls back into his chair with effortless grace, and kicks both legs up onto the teak surface. "So by all means, sun gal, use me as a warning. Use me as a _threat_. It's what the Rangers are for; to be Gem's first, Gem's _spear_. The stick that keeps foreigners in fear of us." 

White teeth flash in a dark smile. "But just you remember; when it comes to the real battle for El Galabi; we're the ones who'll hold the line and bring you victory. If using us means offending a few simpering mountain lords... well. You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll pick the pragmatic option, eh? And if their hurt feelings rouse them to a war once the city is taken..." 

He stretches out his arms to encompass the rejuvenated state of the Rangers; stronger than ever now that his injury has been healed. 

"All the better." 

His dark chuckling follow Inks and Vahti out.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I feel that was... successful? At the very least he isn't going to try and barge in on the diplomatic talks now, so I at least know where he's 'located', so to speak)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  Inks: (You good to continue or shall we close on that note?)  
>  ST: ((I think we will close there, yes. 5xp +1mxp.))  
> 


	57. Chapter 56: Campaign to El Galabi Part 2

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 57))  
>  ST: ((Okay, so just to start with, a few resolutions. Firstly, did you send Tatters out to scout El Galabi back in Fire?))  
>  Inks: (checking)  
>  Inks: (I tried to, but we never actually resolved them on camera either)  
>  Inks: (so I don't actually know if they got done or not.  
>  Inks: (I tried to teach her Infallible Messenger when our minor actions overlapped as well)  
>  ST: ((Okay. Roll me her Perception+Stealth for that as a strategic roll; no Excellencies. 3+5+3 Unseen Ghost Style. She gets 4 automatic successes on this roll from her multitude of Stealth charms. Also roll me her Valour (2) for whether she investigated the temple.))  
>  Inks: !ex 11 +4; [5, 6, 10, 9, 5, 10, 3, 4, 8, 10, 5] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Along with her Conviction 5.))  
>  Inks: !ex 2; [1, 3] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 5; [4, 5, 3, 5, 10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((Okay. Secondly, you were doing DEMON LORD RESEARCH, WHOO! Throw down Int+Occult, with a +3 dice bonus from Bidaha and 2 autosux from various gathered cult materials.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +2; [3, 9, 2, 5, 1, 7, 4, 4, 1, 8, 6, 7] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Nice. And finally, 10 dice from Nabijah for her time in the Circla arenas.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10; [10, 6, 10, 5, 7, 1, 9, 2, 1, 5] was rolled for 6 successes.
> 
> ST: _whistles_  
>  Inks: (can we assume Inks also taught Tatters Infallible Messenger? They have compatible anchors.)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, sure. Okay!))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Despite the looming threat of the homunculus in Rankar's hands and the vaguely ominous dark humour Piercing Sun was displaying about the campaign, life was pretty good for the most part. Pipera had come through Calibration with less self-destructive behaviour than last year, Pesala had stuck to her current decision on a grown-up career for a record-breaking month and a half, and Vahti was starting to show some genuine muscle.

Inks' other allies and employees were doing well, too. Nabijah and her girls had been fighting in the Circla arenas, and while all of them had been earning hefty amounts of fame and money, Nabijah in particular had been _raking_ it in. Bloodthirsty crowds cheered whenever she set foot in the ring, and more and more people were starting to recognize her distinctive spiked mohawk when she accompanied Inks on errands that needed more discreet muscle than Maji.

And Tatters, after a period spent in a funk, had gotten around to writing up an accounting of her investigation into El Galabi. She hadn't bothered mapping the city in more than a brief, precursory way; but she'd gone into some detail on the Underworld geometries beneath it, the nature of the yidaks that infested it and a little about the temple at its heart.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice!)  
>  Inks: (Hmm... What to start with- I'm quite interested in the results of the sorcerous research- and heh. I bet Nabijah's getting some new Backgounds out of her Circla career)  
>  ST: ((Well, address Tatters a bit, since this is relevant information.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
>  Inks: (writing)  
> 

  
  
It had taken no small amount of careful, deceptively casual queries, mild prodding and guiltless snooping for Inks to fully discern Tatter's culinary preferences- but improvising a spread of south-western comfort foods was well within her means.

Finger-food for the most part, crisp vegetables and the varied grains from beyond the Coxati regions- things that could be easily taken to eat in private if Tatters prooved skittish. The table in her 'war alcolve' was packed with platters and sheafs of paper

Annotated discussions of spiritual physiology, maps of El Galabi- verified oral histories of the monks who lived there and more. Tatter's own efforts were the latest to be added. Taking a seat, Inks picked up a page and hummed. "This is _excellent_. "

"I wouldn't call it so," Tatters murmured. "They're too smart, I-Inks." Despite the time she'd known the woman for, she still stumbled a little over the name. "They're yidak. They should be like animals. They're not. They use tools. They make traps. They knew I was there and _cooperated_ to try and catch me. They used _flanking tactics_. And I'm certain I saw something like thaumaturgic rites from one or two. Crude and instinctive, but it was still a ward-breaking rite."

"This is _incredibly useful information_!" Inks's smile was blinding. "If they're at least somewhat rational I can probably make a stronger mental model of them." She leafed through a few more pages- Tatters had included notes on those same formulas as well. "That reminds me- I wanted to ask you to... help me develop a skillset. I'll need to train a number of people in how to bind and ward."

"What you're describing-" She pointed at the papers and evidence of the ward-breaking rituals. "It just means that I'll be fighting a more active, aggressive campaign than I originally expected... But we can account for that."

Tatters picked at her plate thoughtfully, looking up at her through her lashes. "... after El Galabi," she says thoughtfully. "What would you do with them? These students."

Inks was silent for a long moment. "I know that binding ghosts is possible, and that I may want to do so at some point... but for El Galabi, I'd rather see them all just..." She paused, looking for the right word. "The monks, the Dynasts- everybody there deserves to move on, let go. Whatever you think applies. I don't want to give them over to Dead Cahzor or similar."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Ah, she was asking about the students you want her to teach - what you'll do with a battle-tested corps of warders and ghost-banishers in the aftermath.))  
>  Inks: (Oh!)  
>  Inks: (Well it was still a good thing to touch on)  
>  Inks: (Writing)  
> 

  
  
Inks looked up to see Tatter's adorably confused expression, and blinked once. "Wait wait. Entirely different topic? Right. Students!"  
"My _rough_ plan would be to maintain a small standing force that specializes in dealing with ghosts and demons and possibly Wyld hostiles- sort of like a partner organization to the Rangers but focusing more on the sciences and technolgy. Small, lavishly equipped and trained. Probably no more than a hundred, two hundred members at any given time?"

Tatters smiles. "A force to protect people. And you'd fund that? To help people without cost or demand?"

"I'd accept paying work or figure out some kind of income stream, but I wouldn't extort people out of it or anything." She drummed her fingers on the table, humming. "I mean sure, if I could afford to run it out of my other interests, I'd do so. But why ignore a chance for profit as long as it's not hurting people?"  
"I mean, I _like_ being altruistic. I can _afford to do that_. I just want to... do things ethically."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Oh Inks, you love your economies)  
> 

  
  
Tatters considers this. She's dressed more heavily in her mourning clothes again; the slightly cooler temperatures of Air allowing her to layer up - though she's left the veil off, which is nice. "The slaves and the poor who couldn't afford to pay, though," she asks. "Your corps would still help them for free?"

"Pretty much." Inks grinned. "I have all kinds of ideas on payment and incentive structures- and at the end of the day, I'd rather people be alive and happy than have money I don't necessarily need."

Smile widening, Tatters reaches across and - in a vanishingly rare moment of willing physical contact - lays her hand on Inks'. "I'll be glad to help teach your exorcists, then," she says warmly. "And I hope they'll measure up to your goals."

Turning her hand around to catch Tatters in a light grip, Inks's grin gained a mild, flirtatious edge. "You'll be teaching _me_ first, actually."

Tatters' eyebrows rise - and then narrow thoughtfully. "Are you sure?" she asks; an edge of warning in her tone.

"Absolutely."

Tatters cocks her head, assessing something in Inks face, then nods sharply. "Then meet me at nightfall at the nearest tunnel entrance," she says, and stands.  
"If you want to learn how to banish the Dead, then first you'll need to meet them."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (disgonnabegud)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  Inks: (So what's next?)  
>  ST: ((I did not plan for this, but yes, it is. Hmm. We might do the rest of the day so I can, uh, plan out your jaunt down to the shadowlands under Gem next session.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. Research results w/ Bidiha then?)  
>  ST: ((So! Demon lords! Since you are still only Occult 4, I will allow you to visit Ranger Librarian Bidaha and her sexy, sexy hot-for-teacher +1 Appearance modifier as you wish.))  
> 

  
  
Inks, for most of her life, was a terrible student. Not for lack of trying, lack of interest in academia or education. No, she was terrible simply beause she already knew more than most of her teachers.

Very few could keep up with her intellect, her ability to almost unerringly dissect their lesson plans, their excuses, their indiscretions an inadequacies both in terms of erudition and morals.

But for all of that, Inks believed herself to still be a charming, earnest, and fastidiously sincere person who would never stoop to base manipulation when it came to pursuit of skill and knowledge.

Bidiha, somehow over the course of her joint... employment by way of Piercing Sun and Inks herself, had found her way around figure-hugging jackets and high-hemmed skirts. All of those elements paled in comparison to the true treasure that was behind Bidaha's dark eyes.

Promises of truth, power, enrichment. Intangible temptation and more. They made Inks feel seventeen again.

Bidaha turned away from the stack of books and sorcerous lore on the table in Inks's study with a confused pout. "Lady Inks?"

"Bad girl." Inks blurted. "Student. I want to be your bad student. I-" She blinked once. Twice. "... Teach me, Bidaha. So I can go off and die in a corner later."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (ahh that was fun to write)  
>  ST: (snickering)  
> 

  
  
Bidaha's lips curved up in a lazy smirk. "Ahhh. Back for another lesson then, little one?" She leaned forward over the desk, eyes glittering. "Very well. Lady Stanewald we have covered, and that cultist of Tereki had..." she shivers in bliss and makes a sound that sends heat shooting to a number of places in Inks' body; not least her cheeks, "_such extensive notes. Exquisite."

"Very well then," she continues, turning away. "Let us now turn to Lord Vicero. His title is the Wasteland Khan, and he is the Wisdom soul of," her hands sketch a quick gesture of supplication, and she bows. There's a tremor of fear in her voice as she pronounces the name; "Unquestionable Iudicavisse. Which," she adds, "makes his formal address?"

"Vicero _sa_ Iudicavisse _shin_ Cecelyne," Inks answers immediately; giving the proper term of descent from a greater soul, and the unique one held only by fetich-souls to their Primordial progenitor. Bidaha favours her with a sultry smile and a nod, and saunters around her desk to sit on Inks'.

"Swift Vicero," she says, "I know of him, a little - and the prayers of your desert-cultists tell me more. His greater self," again the gesture of supplication and fear, "set him to build his empire in the sands of the Desert, that none might look out past the borders of the City and hope for freedom there. He raids and sacks the edges of Malfeas, taking great spoils and plunder and dragging serfs by the thousand out into the wastes. And where they drag them, ah!" Her sigh is throaty, and her thigh brushes Inks' hand as she leans back with inhuman flexibility to pick a sandstone amulet from a tray.

"See here! The depiction of a city of glass towers amidst silver mountains! Azh-Vul; his capital, which men - such as these foolish tribes - mistake for Hell itself! Can you imagine? To think of the City as a single settlement... madness! But Vicero is rich, and his city is piled high with ten thousand treasures. He is jovial and generous to his friends - and trusting, once convinced of a friend's... affections. Truly, you could hope for no better ally in the trackless wastes."

Inks's eyes followed Bidaha's hands and the amulet. The demon's motions were slow, inhumanly sensual and poised, drawing the chain around her neck and adding the trinket to the collection already framing her bustline. Inks licked her lips. "And this Vicero is suited to my... temperament or goals?"

"He is skilled in sacking cities - and not in holding them; so you need not fear him keeping a firm grip on anything you set him against," Bidaha murmurs, lips grazing close to Inks' ear. "I have heard that his sand-mouse steed can outpace the Silent Wind Herself, and he would be happy to let her bear a friend alongside him. And," she murmurs, swinging herself down into Inks' lap, "he is a terrible foe indeed to those who would cross the desert - harassing their lines and slicing apart their supply chains. Do you not worry that one day the Realm will come for you?"

"P-Potentially useful for El Galabi then." Inks let out a low shiver at the near contact. "And yes, the Realm is a concern... Do you know what he considers a betrayal?"

"Oh," coos Bidaha, and - unfairly - rises. "The usual things. Stealing from him or attacking him, favouring his foes, speaking ill of him behind his back. He has no pity for his foes, but to his friends he is gregarious indeed, and many flock to his charm and easygoing nature. When one he considered a friend betrays him, he weeps and howls and rages, and lashes the borders of the City to vent his woes."

"Got it..." Inks found herself following after the perfumed trail Bidaha left behind, half rising out of her seat as the demon moved. "O-Okay."

She slapped her flushing cheeks to focus, smiling ruefully. "I would ask you to do me another small favor and help me curate the documents in Hinna's lab. I went over them a while ago but there's more to discern I feel."

Standing- with her hips and thighs locked straight and firm- Inks made a shapeless, somewhat inarticulate gesture with her hands. "I was. I mean, when time permits, I was going to ask and offer to instruct you in the art of sorcery- if that were of interest to you."

The tantalizing scent in the room spikes. Bidaha wheels around; her eyes wide. "Oh, _darling_ ," she breathes, face excited. Then she hesitates, nervousness overcoming her. "Ah... but... it is forbidden to serfs such as I. By the Law of Cecelyne." She shivers, but her expression when she looks back at Inks is yearning. "And yet... the secrets of sorcery. It's said that those who learn to shape the world look on it through new eyes; seeing it in a way no others can..."

There's a questioning lilt to her words.

"It's... transformative." Inks agreed, sounding a little more sure of herself now that she had a topic that wasn't Bidaha's unfairly sexy expertise. "But... you aren't in Malfeas. There's no real law of the Endless Desert here. I'm certainly not going to make you go back to Hell either."

Bidaha bites her lip, looking torn - torn by forces stronger than most humans ever know. Inks' kind, after all, are born sane and stable. They aren't driven by the madnesses of demonkind.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So. You just, uh.))  
>  ST: ((Kind of accidentally set Bidaha's Urge - "Exchange Knowledge for Payment and Weave New Lore from Secrets" - against her 5-dot Principle of "Survive".))  
>  ST: ((Soooo...))  
>  ST: !ex 5 #Urge; ST: [7, 7, 6, 3, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: !ex 5 #Survive; ST: [1, 1, 5, 6, 10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((Bidaha.exe has encountered an error and frozen in indecision. You broke your teacher.))  
>  ST: ((Stunt some way to slap her out of it.))  
>  Inks: (hah!)  
> 

  
  
The existential indecision on Bidaha's face was no less alluring than all her other expressions, and Bidaha's instincts as a Neomah were all too attentive to Inks's approach. "So..." The twilight grinned, growing more confident with every step.

"I admit I've always been _tempted_." She took a few more steps closer, sashaying around the desk and chairs with a heavy sway to her hips. "To indulge in the classic sorcerer experience of Malfeas."

Her hand caught Bidaha by the jaw, turning her to face Inks and highlighting how that the Solar was taller... until Bidaha's legs and torso grew to match Inks's own height. "You have such smooth skin... I'm a little envious."

Speaking so close to Bidaha's mouth, that her lips _almost_ touched the demon's, Inks hummed. "I'd like to know what it's like to kiss a Neomah... Could you tell me?"  
"Better yet..." Tilting her head down, Inks nipped at the tip of Bidaha's chin. "Could you show me?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunted snapping her out of it, by framing a flirtation social action in context of teach me sensei)  
>  ST: ((Lol. Cha+Pres. Sexy Stunner is obvious, and, sigh. Since you're playing not only to the teacher-student thing but also _directly_ to her Urge of "payment for knowledge", have a 3-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: !ex 20 +1; [4, 4, 2, 6, 10, 3, 1, 4, 4, 3, 5, 7, 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 1, 3, 1] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (wow, so bad)  
>  ST: ((... if she weren't taking internal penalties for being dizzy with indecision, you'd've failed that. :V))  
>  ST: ((Buuuut as it is...))  
> 

  
  
Bidaha seems to come back to herself. "Ah," she murmurs; form shifting further into a curvy hourglass to match Inks herself - if not exceed her. "Well... I suppose if you were to teach me..." she murmurs, leaning down, "it would only be right to provide..."

Lips brush.

"... _payment_."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Pipera ordered them to burn that desk afterwords)  
>  ST: ((Lol.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, so Inks has a sorcery student and a new regular bed partner. What next... hmm... probably don't need a Nabijah scene, so!))  
>  ST: ((Mwaa haa.))  
>  ST: ((Lemme take a break to get food on, and then...))  
>  ST: ((Rankar~))  
>  Inks: (ohdear)  
>  ST: ((So then. You were going to ask Rankar for his guards. Is Inks going to go to him, or invite him to come to her?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... )  
>  Inks: (Invite him. Too risky to go to his place of power right this second.)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. So, hm hm hmm...))  
>  ST: ((He is rolling his pool of 10 for discerning something up with his torture victim. The Difficulty is 4. He has a -3 penalty from frustration, and...))  
>  ST: !ex 1; ST: [6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  ST: ((... a -2 external penalty from the fact that the homonculus failed its first endurance roll and thus isn't saying very much for him to spot flaws in.))  
>  ST: ((So, 7 dice, Diff 4, -2 external.))  
>  ST: !ex 7 -2; ST: [1, 1, 1, 10, 9, 2, 7] was rolled for 2 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (So wait what, it died, or just got knocked out?)  
>  ST: ((Neither. The homonculus has endurance rolls for each "stage". Failing the endurance roll means it degenerates by a permanent, non-healing health level that represents accumulated damage. When it gets enough of them, it dies.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha.)  
>  Inks: (So basically it has X HLs, and every time it fails an endurance roll, itloses one?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  ST: ((So, Rankar hasn't spotted anything odd, and is in fact pretty happy with Inks. Stunt your set-up as you wish.))  
> 

  
  
Inks had no small respect for the man Rankar VII. Respect tempered by a very real and now pressing sense of the man simply being the wrong kind of ambitious to be truly compatible with her ideas. Useful, insightful- but a living cautionary tale at the way power and excess can drive people to awful extents.

A small part of her held out hope that maybe someday he could become a better man- but being honest with herself, that was likely never going to happen and not going to happen by her hand. Not without the most direct of manipulations on her part.

Subtle manipulations though- well, Inks didn't think of dressing to impress or showing off her tattoo were 'manipulation'. Food and wine were pulled from the pantry and set out at low tables and chaise lounges next to the baths, and in the sun-dappled common ground of her townhouse, Inks waited for the Despot of Gem.

Rankar arrived with a light guard - only the bare minimum of heavily-armoured men he never went without outside the palace. The dark-skinned, dark-eyed man was unusually jovial; his usual frown absent and the scar across his left eyebrow wrinkling as he smiled.

"Lady Iblan," he greeted her. "A pleasure to spend time with the only Great House _not_ causing me problems at the moment. How go your affairs?" His eyes flicker up and down her - and Vahti - as his slip of wording clearly diverts his mind to the other type of... affair.

"Engaging." Inks fired back with a wink. "I'm juggling no small number of challenges in the immediate future. One of which you can help me resolve."

To punctuate herself, Inks leaned back on the lounge and onto Vahti's lap, artfully drawing Rankar's eye not to her body, but her diaphanous gown that seemed to drink in sunlight. Vahti herself was wearing similar- though far less as the Flame Duck preferred to in the comfort of the townhouse. Inks had found the time to practice her sunlight-imbuing ritual on some select items, partly as a demonstration for the day

And partly because Inks enjoyed the feeling of fine things against her skin.

Vahti offered Inks a grape from a nearby tray, letting the Twilight nip her fingers before Inks continued her pitch. "The campaign to El Galabi will begin soon, and I plan on assuring the mountain lords that my intentions are both noble and limited to the temple-territory itself."

"Along the way I would blunt the economic dismany they might feel at losing Gem as a primary customer for their exports. I'm sure there's a way to adjust the flow of trade to improve profit."

Having meandered around the point enough, Inks wriggled more firmly into Vahti's embrace with a gusty sigh. "So I would ask for the support of the Despot's Guard in retaking El Galabi, and firming up the grant to hire mercenaries either local or abroad."

He settles himself onto another of the lounges, accepting a glass of wine from Carsa and stroking his beard.

"Blunting the ire of the Coxati at losing their hold over us will not be easy," he muses. "Though of course, given the benefits I will allow you a lot of freedom in doing so. How do you plan to sell it to them?"

"I'll need to 'read the room' so to speak." Inks allowed. "But the current plan is to convince them that they can restructure their markets and economies amongst each other. Food they aren't sending to us can be used to grow their own population which means more economic exchange for all of us."

"It's a very long view strategy though, so I'd want to really get a good read on how to frame it before I just up and say 'Hey do this because it sounds smart."

The Despot of Gem hums thoughtfully. "They don't value the food they send us for the wealth it brings them," he says, assuming a lecturing tone. "Oh, they appreciate our jewels and our gold and our silver. But what they value it more for is power. So long as we depend on the food from the mountains, they can cut it off as they wish. Should... certain among us rattle our sabres," and here he very conspicuously doesn't glance in the direction of Piercing Sun's star fort, "they can simply threaten to starve us all. We cannot conquer or kill on empty stomachs."

Leaning forward, his dark eyes crease back into a frown. "They will not care about trade or population growth, Lady Inks. Because to send that food to one another instead of holding Gem by its belly opens them up to the threat of the Rangers marching on them unopposed. Without that soft power, they have no way to deter a war, no way to prevent an attack. And with Elemi Piercing Sun back at full strength, they cannot afford to fight."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Thinking... While I'm thinking about it, SRoI on "They will not care.", Judge's Ear on same. and MoSM in general. So Inks gets a sentence summary of 'Rankar's intent', is it a lie/half truth, and a 3-sux Read Motivation on Rankar. )  
>  ST: ((NOT LIE, he wants her to understand the level of opposition she's going to get towards taking away the main source of soft-power leverage the Coxati have over Gem, "Rule Gem in Unopposed Luxury".))  
>  Inks: (Excellent)  
> 

  
  
"Setting aside Piercing Sun's desires- do _you_ have any great desire to make war upon Coxati, or anyone, for that matter?"

Rankar smiles a wicked, dangerous smile. "I would say that depends entirely on whether they make themselves a problem," he purrs.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (SRoI on that as well).  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Not... sure the charm works like that. It returns what he hopes to gain from making that statement, I guess?))  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I'll allow it, just barely, since it's at least related.))  
>  Inks: (Right, mostly i'm trying to clarify if he's that opportunistically combative or just 'Hey if they attack I'll take them for everything I can)  
>  ST: ((He'd go to war with them if they tried to cut off the food and starve Gem - eg, attack his Motivation - but as long as they keep to themselves he's basically happy to ignore them. He's content with Gem, he's not got expansionist goals.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent, that's what I wanted to know!)  
>  ST: ((Of course, convincing them of that when Piercing Sun is alive is another matter entirely.))  
> 

  
  
"So Gem's strong military independence means that Coxati's economic leverage and soft power is the only check they have against it.... " Inks sat up more fully, and Vahti dutifully slid forward to wrap her arms around Inks's middle as she contemplated. "You've given me a lot to think about. Assuming I _can_ address any potential challenges with the Coxati, can I count on your backing in the campaign?"

He considers for a moment, and nods. "As long as the food of El Galabi is Gem's and Gem's alone? Of course."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((And I think we can close on that!))  
>  ST: ((5xp +1mxp +2Sxp for getting a student, well done!))  
>  Inks: (Nice.)  
>  Inks: (I had planned on, if needed, to offer the sunblessed gear to Rankar's guards if he needed more convincing,hence calling it out in the sexy stunt)  
>  Inks: (Hey look at these sunblessed gowns we're wearing- youcan do this for armor too)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Nah, this is a big thing that will massively help Gem. He'll be pleased at the extra gear, but this is supporting his Motivation.))  
>  Inks: (I figured)  
>  ST: So, had fun?  
>  Inks: Yep!  
>  Inks: I was surprised again at Not Doing Strategic Time  
>  ST: Good to hear. ^_^  
>  Inks: but it's still great fun  
>  Inks: I mean yes we did resolve some strategic actions, but those were from like 2 sessions and several realtime weeks ago  
>  Inks: so I had to scramble and figure out what was happening  
>  ST: I _was_ going to shift into strategic time, but then you threw out a giant target ring saying PLEASE MAKE ME GO INTO A SHADOWLAND AND MEET HORRORGHOSTS and started dancing in front of it while passing me a loaded rifle, and, like  
>  ST: i have temperance, Inks, but only so much  
>  ST: i am but a mortal woman  
>  ST: there are limits to my self-control  
>  Inks: Hahaha  
>  Inks: No no this is fine  
>  ST: glad to hear it ^_^  
> 

  
  



	58. Chapter 58: Time with Tatters

The great thin spire of Rankar Peak casts a long shadow, both figuratively and literally. As the sun descends past the Summer Mountains, though, it stretches thirty miles or more towards the Scar; a black shape on the sands that extends from the world's largest sundial.

Still, while the sun itself is no longer visible, the sky tints through shades of red as the Daystar dips those final few inches towards the western sea. It's only a few hours later that Inks feels true twilight approach; when the sky is lit only by the stars and the distant flickering glow from the Pole of Fire.

It's near the new moon. The streets are dark. There's a chill to the air as she prepares for her jaunt with Tatters.

* * *

In the safety and security of her townhouse, lit by expensive glowstones set into the pillars and hanging lattice decorations, Inks contemplated her life choices.  


"So how the hell do you put this thing all the way on?"

The Twilight toyed with the Ashigaru helmet, held between her gauntleted hands. Primarily wrought of jadesteel with smaller fittings of various other materials- both lesser and greater Magical metals, the helmet was a sublimely articulated piece of precision engineering and armorcraft. Properly worn and sealed, it would give her an hour of breathable air, improve her visual acuity in low light conditions, and of course, be a helmet.

She hefted it overhead and gave it an experimental jiggle. There was no way she was getting this thing on in addition to all her hair.

Spinning the problem (and the helmet) around in her hands a few times, Inks finally hit upon a solution that was at least comfortable if not a bit vain. Retrieving a set of tools took a moment, enhanced by her own mastery of craft. Adjusting a few of the plates on the back freed up a small gap that let her hair slip through, along with an oiled bit of cloth that served as a sealant gasket. Anyone without a cleansing gem like hers would not have enjoyed her workaround anywhere near as much.

She had to undo half her normal hairstyle and pull it through the gap, then redo her customary bun and ponytail before pinning it up with her lacquered hair sticks. With one elegant twist, she pinned her hair in place and spun on her booted feet towards Pipera and Vahti.

"There." Helmet firmly in place and hair rising out the back like a personal standard, Inks grinned behind the mask. "How do I look?"

"Like a Ranger," Pipera tells her, in a wry tone that actually makes it quite hard to tell if she's being sarcastic or just teasing, let alone whether it's an insult or a compliment. Vahti, meanwhile, has more pedestrian concerns.

"... boobs," she says sadly, poking at the hard, unyielding surface of Inks' chestplate. Getting into it had been... tricky. She managed it, but it's a very tight fit in there.

Laughing, Inks gave Vahti's forlorn hand a playful slap. She lifted the face plate of the armor away so they could see her grin. "I know I know. Hardly my usual flattering style. But look at it this way- I'll be all sore and achey later and you can help me _out_ of the armor too~"

"I'll make sure to pad the walls," Pipera murmurs, and okay, she's definitely teasing now. "Where did she tell you to meet her? Is she picking you up from your porch?"

"... No those are both good questions." She looked around, idly drawing Chronicle with one hand, then pushing it back into the space between spaces as she waited.

Dropping a fist into an open had, Inks blinked. "Oh right! I remember now- she wanted to meet me- _ohshi-_ I'm late!"

Almost as if summoned - or sent - there's a rush of essence, and Tatters' ghostly little kitten-familiar appears in the room. It... doesn't look like it did the last time Inks saw it. Then, it had been a pale little mewling thing whose broken-ribbed corpus bore the marks of the stamp that had killed it.

Now, it stands taller and straighter, tail upright and ears perked. And it _burns_. It burns with unearthly pyreframe that runs along its bones; the shattered skeleton glowing through its ghostly flesh and lending it a ghoulish, predatory air.

When it opens its mouth and speaks, the sheer mundanity of the message is jarring. "Inks," Tatters' voice says in a disappointed tone. "I've waiting at the tunnel entrance for ten minutes. Where are you?"

Banishing Chronicle one last time, Inks dropped the faceplate down and moved- "Gottagoladieshaveafunnightdon'tdoanythingIwouldn'twanttomiss!"

And with that she dashed out the open courtyard doors, Maji bounding behind her.

* * *

Gem is a strange city at night. The underside is lit brighter than the top; coloured radiance spilling from the large glowstones embedded at intervals down the tunnels. Unlike the multitude that decorate the Despot's palace, there are only a few out here, and they cast a crazy slew of shadows in every nook and cranny.

The base of the stairs closest to Inks' manor is relatively deserted at this time in the evening, and there's nobody actually in sight when she reaches the base of the stairs. Wise to Tatters' tricks by now, she steels herself for the inevitable, and determinedly doesn't yelp when Tatters materializes out of a shadowy corner that had definitely not been shadowy enough to actually conceal a five-and-a-half-foot woman carrying a four-ringed khakkara and a metal flask. Insofar as Inks can read her expression through the veil, she seems slightly surprised by the armour.

At her look, Inks gave the other woman a more exaggerated shrug. "I need the practice." She mocked up a few stretches, noting that the armor was surprisingly limber, but it was clear it hampered her already weak mobility just a bit more. Taking a few experimental jabs at the air, Inks flipped up the face plate and grinned. "So what's the plan?"

Tatters considered, but seemed to accept it with a nod. "I'll be taking you down to show you what you'll be dealing with," she says, and trades a long look with Maji. "... he can come," she adds, "but only if he stays on your skin. Like I know he can."

Inks wasn't happy about that- more for Maji's sake than her own. She looked down at her familiar for a long, wordless moment before he finally agreed. He jumped into her tattoo with a fairly beligerent huff, leaving Inks to plant her fists on her hips and nod. "Ready now?"

Tatters dips her head behind the veil. "Your soul is sunlight," she says. "Flare it, and we'll return to the surface. I can't teach you if you're making a wasteland of everything around you." She pauses. "It would probably keep us safe, though," she adds. "If things go wrong."

She turns, beckoning Inks along. While Inks likes to think she knows the underside of Gem reasonably well; her manor is on the surface along with the majority of her businesses. Tatters is far more at home down here among the glowstones, traversing the capillary-tunnels that spread out from the main Crown lava tubes with effortless familiarity.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Lore to work out where they're going, Diff 2, +2 internal penalty for how Inks has been distracted recently and not up on recent news.))  
>  Inks: !ex 5; [2, 3, 10, 4, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

  
  
Inks frowns. They're heading north and east from her manor, towards the tunnels under Sixth Scorpion... ahhh. She thinks she might know where they're headed. Gem's main mercenary market is on that street, and the Circla gladiators train there. She wouldn't be at all surprised if there was a shadowland lurking around such a place of death - especially given the nasty brawl that broke out a few months ago. What had it been; seventeen dead in the space of a few minutes, when a mercenary group had clashed with a few of the down-on-their-luck gladiators who'd suffered a string of humiliating losses recently? Nabijah had mentioned it, because some of those losses had been to her.

"Is this a _recent_ development?" Inks spoke out into the steadily thickening shadows. "Something about Circla gladiators?"

Tatters glances back. "That's right," she says. "There are others I could take you through, but this one has a good exit into Dead Gem that... well, you'll see."  
It's another few minutes before they reach their destination, and it's obvious when they do. One of the quarter-tunnels branching off an artery-way is barred off from access; red and black painted wooden boards set up across the entrance to it. It's dark within. The glowstones have all gone out, and Inks can smell the faint scent of blood on the stale air. People passing on their way to and from their homes or businesses avoid looking at it - though Inks herself gets _plently_ of gawkers staring at her high-tech armour from a distance.

"You've seen places like this before," says Tatters. "How many, and where?"

"Uh. Most recently the Shadowmines, and the tombs of House Iblan?" Inks hazarded. "Oh and I scouted El Galabi once- I didn't go inside the border."

Tatters nods. "Do you know what a shadowland _is_ , functionally speaking?"

"In broad strokes, yes." Inks hummed, thinking back the research she did months ago- even before meeting Tatters. "Wounds in the world, paths to the Underworld and the rivers of the dead. During the day they are Creation- at night they are the Underworld... if we go in- are we stuck there until dawn?"

"No," Tatters reassures her, and Inks can tell she's smiling. "You would be, but..." she shakes the flask she's carrying, "that's why you have me. So."  
A swipe of her staff clears the boards out of the way, and she steps over the line of the shadowland, beckoning Inks after her. There's no discomfort - she's done this enough times that she's used to the feeling.

"Should we..?" She looks at the boards for a moment before taking the time to put them back in some semblance of place- from the inside of the tunnel. At Tatter's askance expression, she shrugged. "Didn't want anyone wandering in after us. How deep are we going?"

"That depends on you," is Tatters' somewhat ominous answer.

This shadowland doesn't feel like the Iblan one, nor the shadowmine. There's the edge of _violence_ to the atmosphere here; a hint of blood on the air, the sense that someone's behind her with a broken bottle or a drawn sword. Inks feels jumpy, her skin prickles with the chill of seeing a man's throat open and remembering just how fleeting and easily-taken a life can be.

Aside from that, though, it's not actually that interesting. There are no ghosts here - and something about the nonchalance of how Tatters is standing implies that she knew that, or maybe made sure of it. It's a small and empty wound in the world; perhaps one that's slowly being forced closed by the pressure of lives continuing on around it.

Or maybe that's the ofuda she can see pinned up on the walls here and there. She recognises those as Tatters' hand.

The woman herself is tap-tapping over to one of the quarters along this branch of tunnel, and Inks follows her into the ransacked house to find her pushing open the door to a set of stairs. Rather than the wide thoroughfares that lead down to the Ring tunnels below them, this is just a short residential flight to another floor of the house set between the two layers of lava tubes. Still, something about the doorways seems... off. 

Ominous. Dark.

The walls and hallways were uncomfortably tight, too small to fit Inks's personality or her weapon. "This is going to be _interesting_..." She muttered, closing her helmet with a neat click. Taking a moment, she scanned the scene- details leaped out to her mind.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This is a house, to confirm? Someone lived here, it's just an apartment that's carved into earth/rock?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent, stunting Crafty Observation Technique.)  
>  ST: ((Go for it. Int+Inv.))  
> 

  
  
Dead average middle class- Inks guessed at the start. Enough space for a single occupant to live comfortably or a family to maybe feel a bit smothered by. No expensive wood furniture- everything was carved or pinned into the walls.

Gauzy silks and tapestries hung from the walls, muffling the sounds from outside or in, and adding some much needed color. The rooms themselves were dark, thick with shadows but her own visor cut through the gloom. There- a bench was askew. And a small table. A struggle? An attempt to flee?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunted, per+invest actually, maybe bonus from the visor too)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. No bonus, but 2-dot stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Yeah, grants awareness bonus; negates darkness penalties unless Pitch Black as a separate clause. And I have Artful Deduction Style, so 5+4 +2 style +1 perk, +2 stunt. 14d total)  
>  Inks: !ex 14; [10, 9, 5, 7, 5, 9, 10, 7, 2, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> 

  
  
Ah, but there's more, she sees. The brackets on the walls for weapons, the scuffs of boots on the stone floor, the marks on the ceiling where a blade had chipped the stone. This was the home of a mercenary. The signs of the scuffle, a splash of blood over there, the pattern of the breakages - a fight had broken out in here, but the chair had been flung back first. And given the way Tatters had come here first, and that dark doorway leading down...

"This is the man who started the fight, isn't it?" Inks says shrewdly. "Someone... yelled something at him through the door? A taunt? Something like that. So... he snaps, springs up," she traces the route with her finger. "Tears the door open, punches whoever's mocking him. Takes out a tooth." She nods at the little white object nestled in a divot near the door. "But, uh oh, the guy has friends. Gladiators, come to take out their frustration by bullying a rival. They didn't intend violence, but once the first punch got thrown, they retaliated, pushed him back into the room..."

She gestures at the wreckage. "And at some point, blades got drawn. Mercenary man's friends and squad came in from the neighbouring rooms. The fight spilled out into the corridor. Seventeen dead by the end. But it started in here."

Tatters looks at her for a long moment.

"That's a lot to get from a glance," she says, shrinking a little in her form-concealing robes.

Inks grinned. "I'm just _that damn good_ ~"

Tatters huffs quietly, and gestures downstairs. "Well, you missed the important part. These stairs don't lead to the next floor down anymore. And this is where we're headed next. General rule of thumb when dealing with the Dead: if you want to get deeper into the Underworld? Head down."

The specific flavour of the shadowland abates as Inks steps down, into a general hollowness; a sucking lifeless place where she'd always before felt living essence running through Creation. It's like running her tongue around her teeth and abruptly finding an abscess. At the bottom of the short flight there's a wooden door, and Tatters pauses in front of it. Taking out her metal flask, she spills a single drop of something dark and red and oily at her feet. It smells like blood.

"Ready?" she asks.

Resisting the urge to draw Chronicle, Inks shook her head. "No. But let's get moving."

Tatters shoves the door open. And the sight on the other side is impossible.

"Welcome," she says. "To Dead Gem."

* * *

The skull. That's the first thing that Inks sees. It dominates the city; a vast thing set at the bottom of the looming mountain spire that must be two or three times the height of Rankar Peak in truth. The skull is bone and it's gold and it's pyreflame; black fire burning in a terrible crown above the skeletal palace. From its left eye runs a river of blood and gore and swordblades, from its right spills a river of dust and birds and baking heat. Both vanish into the lightless chasm that separates it from the rest of the city, spanned only by a terribly thin bridge.

This is Gem, but it's not Gem as Inks knows it. The terrible skull where the Despot's palace should stand and the unfathomable height of the looming mountain aren't the only differences. The caldera is two, perhaps three times bigger than it should be, and shrouded by a sandstorm around it. The sky is dark and starless. Strange buildings rise up ahead of her on Fourth and Second Scorpion; styles she recognizes as Shogunate from her trips to Xandia and Cahzor. A military fort squats in the rubble of First, with crossbow emplacements on its battlements and the tiny forms of soldiers patrolling its walls. Above the skull-palace, a huge symbol is cut into the mountain's face - a crude dragon, curved into the shape of of a "C".

"What."

There's simply too much to see. Too much to take in. That Tatters had brought them to some high point that spread all of this grand and macabre scenery out before them. Were they on some high rise or cliff's edge? Inks looked around, not entirely sure. "I. What."

They were on a taller building on what looked like Sixth Scorpion, though not one she recognized. The street was off too, descending into a tangle of switchback alleys and cramped thoroughfares. "...Wow."

"This is the first truth of the Underworld," Tatters' voice says from behind her. "Forget everything you know about space and distance. The land of the Dead is not one continuous territory like Creation is. It is built from memories; shaped by nostalgia and nightmares." She gestures at the Despot's horrifying palace; separated from the rest of the city by a yawning chasm, unreachable but imposing its weight and presence on everyone below. "As you can clearly see. And not all memories can co-exist. So each one is bounded - Dead Gem, the Undermines below it - and to move between them, you must use the Rivers."

"And this probably applies to El Galabi as well...." Inks noted. "So the room above-" She pointed to the stairs going up... somewhere. "That was just a Shadowland, right? We had to come down here just to get into Dead Gem?"

"Yes. Most of the shadowlands in Gem connect down to Dead Gem. That's what a shadowland is, really. It's part of a memory-domain intruding on Creation." Tatters shifts to stand behind her, staff clasped tightly. "I've seen memories as small as a single building with dozens of ghosts living in them. And on the other hand, I've seen domains so large you couldn't cross them if you walked for a month, with only the same handful of lesser Dead that live there. There's no difference between them, from the outside. Space down here is something the Dead bring with them."

Her staff flicks out, pointing at the symbol carved on the mountain and the hulking fort in what was the wealthiest district of the city aboveground. "What do you think those mean?" she poses.

"Hmmm..." Hiking over to the edge of the roof, Inks tapped her fingers against the mask over her mouth. "Well based on what you've just told me- those sections are the... densest, most powerful memories Gem has? The legacy of the Despot- not just Rankar. But _so many people_ have died hard under their rule."

"... Lemme think on the symbol, but my guess regarding the fort is the legacy of all the fallen Rangers and mercenaries in Gem's history banding together in death?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (is there a roll I can take for more info?)  
>  ST: ((You can roll Wits+Lore at Diff 2, or you can just let Tatters explain.))  
>  Inks: (Mostly I want to not force you to exposit so much- this is all really fun though! Tatters can explain)  
> 

  
  
Now Tatters is definitely smiling. "It's a good guess," she praises. "And in another city you might be right. It wouldn't be the first time I'd seen soldiers take over a dead city they served in life. But you're thinking of the domains as static. Memories might stay separate down here... but ghosts don't."

That's all it takes for it to click for Inks, and she points an armoured finger at the symbol on the mountain. " _Cahzor_ ," she says with certainty. "That's Dead Cahzor's symbol, isn't it?"

"Right- I remember now. You even told me Dead Cahzor wanted to get in on the campaign to retake El Galabi." Inks hummed again. Down below she could see the ghosts and citizens of this realm going about their business. Ghoulish and macabre or not, it was still.. very urban. "So Dead Cahzor's the reigning shogunate power here in the Underworld, and... new Cahzor is... wherever it is relative to this?" She pointed in the vaguely western-ish direction that really didn't matter much.

"Dead Cahzor has mostly managed to stave off sinking deeper," Tatters explains, motioning her over to a set of stairs leading down from the roof. "As places are forgotten and new memories replace them - think, I don't know... a town being destroyed so there's nobody dying in it and keeping the domain supplied with memories anymore - it'll sink deeper into the Underworld. Normally when a place changes enough that the memories of the dead are new, the new domain pushes the old one down, but Dead Cahzor has managed to stop that from happening. Mostly by taking tithes from its vassal states and using them to anchor itself up near Creation, then devouring the new domains that try to push it down whenever they start to form. That's why the fort is here."

There's a frown to her voice as she says that, and her grip on the staff tightens. Evidently she's not a fan of Dead Cahzor's methods in clinging to their proximity to life. "So, you can probably guess the other domains that are near Dead Gem. The Undermines are one - and the Black Desert is another, out there." She gestures at the sandstorm howling just outside the lip of the caldera. "I'll show you them, but first we're going to meet some of the inhabitants here. You said you met a ghost in the shadowmines?"

"Yeah! Two different ghosts at different times." Inks noted. "And I saw a bunch of others. Of the first set was a dead miner, their head caved in and eyes paved over with flesh. They had long fingers and were obsessed with the soundness of the mine structure."

"Most were like him- miners calling out for aide and all that. The other one I met..." She described the Iblan elder spirit- her palanquin and ghostly retinue. How luridly rich she seemed....

"...Technically she's _my_ ancestor now too."

"Grandmother Iblan," Tatters nods. "I know her. Though I won't be taking you to meet _her_. I'm not an Iblan, and they're touchy about people intruding on their shadowland. No, our first visitor should be somewhere around here."

They reach the street, and Tatters steps aside smartly to avoid... a cart? Yes, a pushcart, full of the hazy outlines of fruit and meat. It's pushed by a faceless figure; a wispy silhouette of bland greyness with no distinct features or clothes - not even build or gender. Bearing the robe-clad exorcist and clanking suit of Shogunate armour not one whit of attention, it continues past them in silence, pushing its silent cart.

"...Awkward." Inks noted, before falling into step with Tatters. She was taller than the other woman- not that the exorcist's customary posture helped any. It let Inks keep an eye out, scanning left and right as they moved onward.

There are more of the faceless figures, as they walk. Many more. Dozens, if not hundreds, in fact. Some of them push carts. Others clean walls, tote water, or just mill through the streets in aimless masses. Tatters catches Inks looking at them.

"They're not ghosts," she says. "Shades. I said the Underworld is shaped by memory. Well, these are the memories of people. Not beings in their own right. Just... the recollections of being one among many. Mobile scenery. You can train them as servants - and places like Dead Cahzor demand them as tribute for exactly that reason. They're the ones who do the rote tasks that ghosts aren't people enough to do themselves."

"So they're... almost natural automata?" Inks tried to find some common ground. "An emergent process based on the cruft of nostalgia and weight of the living world?"

"Yes." Tatters is looking around, somewhat distracted. "Shades are a good way of telling if a domain is healthy or not. If there are still ghosts flowing into it; new shades should crop up constantly. Once it starts slipping deeper down the Rivers; they slow to a trickle - and the ones that show up are twisted. Memories of memories of people. Or worse. That's why they're taken as tax- ah. There she is."

Beckoning Inks over, she makes for a landmark among the voiceless crowds of shades; a shop whose bright, bright sign is a splash of vibrant colour in this faded, washed-out world of blacks and greys and watered-down hues. Inks' eyes flick up to the sign and she recognizes the pipe and Sahlak stamp. This is an opium den. Or at least, someone's memory of one.

"Huh." Clumsily dodging another phantasmal throng of people, Inks pressed herself against the wall to let the surge of pedestrian traffic pass. She quirked an eyebrow behind her helmet. "Anything I should know before we go in?"

Tatters plucks a small bag from out of her robes and hands it over. "She's one of my contacts," she says. "Don't let her kiss you. And if she asks you for poppy; give her this."

That said, she knocks and enters. The inside is a fairly typical opium den by the standards Inks has seen - but this one _gleams_. It's bright - vivid and real and more thrilling than any such parlour in Creation could be without magic involved. Pictures dance in the multicoloured smoke that wreathes the room; dragons and women and tumbling jewels. Some of the figures slumped around the room are shades, but there are ghosts here too - gaunt, skeletal figures wreathed in vapour, with matted hair and ragged clothes that show ribs poking through paper-thin skin. None of them even react to the entry of the living pair.

The woman at the back does, though. She's clearly of the same breed, but her gaze doesn't hold the dull fog of her kin. It's sharp and bright and manic, instead. Her gauntness comes off as height, and her hair sublimates into the smoke that clings closely to her form. Her features are pinched, and where her cheekbones poke through her fragile skin, Inks can see scrimshaw etched into them. She's clearly the owner of this place - if her bearing didn't give it away, her fine clothes would; hiding the rest of her body far better than the rags the poor wretches sprawled out on cushions wear.

"Crass Piri," Tatters greets her. "I've brought more poppy for you, and a guest. If you sit and speak with her for a while, I have five gifts to share."  
Whatever that means, it immediately changes the ghost from a pinched frown to smiles and pleasantries. The ghosts and shades get kicked out - literally - and in a matter of moments, the three of them are settled on the cushions; opiate-haze still hanging above their heads. When Tatters passes over her own little pouch of poppy, Inks watches in fascination as it goes from a pallid greyish-brown thing to a sparkling fine leather drawbag in her hands. The drug inside, when Crass Piri tugs it opens to check, all but _sparkles_.

Marveling at the transformation, Inks took a moment to reason out the process. Was it a sympathetic reaction? Some sorcerous or necromantic art on Tatter's part? No, there was no obvious hint of spells being shaped...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Occult for more detail)  
>  ST: ((Diff 4, roll it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [3, 3, 2, 3, 8, 9, 2, 1, 1] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: (alas)  
>  ST: ((She can always ask! Tatters has bribed her to talk, so you can address Piri with any questions Inks wants to ask.))  
> 

  
  
"Ah! Excuse me." Inks frowned, realizing just looking wasn't going to get here anywhere. "Can you explain how the poppies changed? The bag too?" Despite the armor, Inks's poise showed through, bolstered further by a bare touch of magic.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Master of Small Manners, so Inks is App 6 and counts as having 3 sux on read-motives)  
> 

  
  
The chuckle Piri lets out is hoarse and rough; the surprisingly deep voice of a lifetime smoker. "Quite a novice, ain't you?" she husks. "I died by poppy, miss. I craved it in my last breaths." Her fingers work around the back, savouring the feeling. "I needed it more'n I needed food, more than water, more than sleep. I'd've done anything for my next hit. I did. And then I died - and I woke up down here. Still needin' it. Still cravin' it. Poppy's the fuel that keeps me burnin'." She grins, showing drug-stained teeth.

Inks can feel how true her words are. As mad and inhuman as the drive of the mine-ghost had been; that's what poppy is to Crass Piri. The drugs are her everything. And that's why, Inks supposes. In this realm of faded memory, everything is washed out and pale - imperfect memory failing to give proper due to the vibrancy of life. But oh, the madness of a ghost - the crazed obsession they funnel into what they care about; the things that tie them to life... that _would_ make things shine, wouldn't it? Brighter even than reality, because how can living people possibly _feel_ with all the insane passion of a ghost pouring over its fetters?  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks deduces that the drugs are one of Crass Piri's Fetters, and so in their hands they're as vibrant as they were in life, and more. She can also, from the generally eye-popping colour of the shop, deduce that it's another Fetter - there's probably a matching one in Creation somewhere that she cared about enough for it to become one of her ties to life.))  
>  Inks: (nice)  
> 

  
  
Fascinating. Tragic. Other things besides. The significance of her fetters- of fetters in general brought to mind all sorts of ideas. Vulnerabilities and securities both. The land of the dead was a world of _passion_ , manic and fevered by a will that refused to pass on.

Oddly enough Piri seemed fairly sanguine about it- hardly resentful or upset at her lot of being a ghost. Perhaps she was merely ignorant, or content with her unlife as a ghost could be.

Inks nodded slowly, and politely pulled the mask and visor off her helmet. "Thank you for explaining. I forgot to introduce myself. I-Iblan Inks, of Living Gem."

She didn't care. Inks could see it in her eyes. A living person would have at least taken note. But the Iblan name wasn't a source of poppy and it wasn't related to her shop, and so Piri felt nothing for it. Nothing at all. And with that in mind, Inks could guess how much sway human compassion or ties to people she was friends with in life would have.

None. None whatsoever. If it wasn't a Fetter, she felt no more towards it than a sociopath. Tatters gave her a level look from her position across the floor, and Inks couldn't help but remember her staunch insistence never to treat ghosts like people.

For good or ill, Inks's habits were well ingrained. She looked back at Tatters. "So... what business do we have here?"

"Apart from conversation? We're here to see your pet," Tatters told Piri. "Can we?"

"Gifts first," Piri shot back immediately. "Pay up front, and you can go get into bed with it for all I care."

Sighing, Tatters lifted her veil and stepped closer. She took Piri's hand, and Inks felt the telltale feel of sorcery as the world brightened around them. Or...

... no. It wasn't getting darker. It was just that the black weight to the air around Tatters was _eating the darkness;_ a blackness so deep that it went past "lightless" and into the realm of actively devouring the shadows. It made Inks' skin prickle as Tatters moved Piri's hand to touch her eye, her ear, her nose, her lips, her cheek.

Then she leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead, and spoke a short sentence in words that hurt the ear and vanished from memory as soon as the echo was gone, leaving only blank spaces where they'd been.

Piri gasped, staggering back, and then moaned. Pyreflame burned in her eyes, her ears, her nostrils. It filled her mouth and crawled in ghostly phosphorescence under her skin. Trembling, she ran a finger down her cheek as though she'd never felt it before, then dove for the bag of poppy.

"What-? That was the 'five gifts'?" Inks blinked once. Twice. "Necromancy?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 6; [9, 3, 7, 3, 3, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

  
  
Tatters shrugs. "Yes. Sight, hearing, scent, taste, touch. It gives them back in full for a day, as if they were alive again." Behind her, as she walks to the door in the back of the shop, Piri lights up an opium pipe and takes a blissful drag. Inks can only imagine what the heightened sensitivity of a Fetter is like when applied to living senses, rather than the dulled ones of the Dead.

"Fascinating- and useful." Inks noted. Following Tatters, she put her mask back together, feeling it click into place and freshen up the opiate-choked air with it's own internal reserve. "So what' next?"

"That was a hun-ghost," Tatters says, toeing open the door and walking through to the back of the shop. She's clearly been here before; she knows her way around. "What did you think of her?"

"Sociopathic." There were more shades doing drudgery tasks- cleaning opium pipes, knocking ash into pyreflame trash heaps- the sickly blue-green fire of the underworld seemed to burn without fail..

Dancing past two shades stretching out some soiled linens, Inks hummed. "She seems perfectly _nice_ , personable even, so long as you're talking about something she cares about... but I imagine she's also a foul raging terror if you threaten her fetters."

Tatters nods approvingly. "Hun ghosts are halfway-people," she agrees. "They can be kind. They can be reasonable. Many are benevolent. But they don't have the breadth of feelings a person does. Piri is easy to keep happy, and her shop sees enough traffic that she's a good way to keep an eye on Dead Gem. As ghosts go, she's fairly harmless. But she's also a good way of... demonstrating what ghosts can be like. And she has a pet, which is the other thing I brought you here to see."

"Something tells me this is not going to be a cute and cuddly experience." Feeling the way her tiger prowled along the curves and designs of her tattoo, Inks figured Maji agreed.

"I introduced you to Piri to show you a hun-ghost," Tatters says, reaching a door. It's covered in iron reinforcement, and has three padlocks on it. Tatters' body blocks Inks' view of them for ten seconds or so as she fiddles; there are three little _clicks_ , and all three padlocks are open.

"Now you meet the other kind," she adds, and shoves the door open.

The shriek from inside is hateful and bestial and utterly inhuman. The _thing_ in the cell goes from curled up on the floor to lunging for her throat - no, her _mouth_ \- in a split-second, only to be foiled by the twin barriers of a chain around its ankle snapping taut and Maji materializing with a roar between them.

Thrown back by the thrust of her Familiar's leap- phasing through her armor and out in front of the rush, Inks nearly fell back through the door! "Sonnova-rotten-flood-coprse!"

Buoyed by Essence, Inks's foot hit the dusty paving stone with a light and quiet _tap_ , and she stood high to face down her foe over Maji's snarling bulk. "H-Hungry ghost?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I'm gonna turn on Graceful Crane Stance, but you could have thrown a knockdown/balance check to upsell the sudden-ness!)  
>  ST: ((Ooo, good idea. Heh. I'll remember that for next time.))  
> 

  
  
Peeking over a snarling Maji's shoulder, Inks shivered. The yidak's skin was akin to shrunken leather, and had open wounds in places as if it had grown too small for its body and split along the seams to show muscles like dried jerky beneath it. Its lips were chapped so horribly that the flesh hung in tatters, and its eyes were hard little beads of black. Sunken cheeks gnashed as its gaze fixed on her mouth, and she shivered as she recognized the symptoms.

This was a corpse that had died of thirst. A thing that would rip someone's tongue out just to get its hands on a single drop of water again.

"They're called Parched Ones," Tatters says quietly. "There are a lot of them in Dead Gem. This one is particularly aggressive. It's why Piri keeps it up here as a bodyguard. There's no moisture in her smoke."

With Maji and chains between her and messy, parched death, Inks nodded and took a moment to look the huffing, wheezing thing over. It wanted to slather- but could not. There was no hint of moisture in any of it's corpus.

"This," Tatters says, "is more like what you're going to find in El Galabi. The ones there are more cunning, but they're bestial and savage, like this. The madness of hun-ghosts is their lack of care for things that aren't their Fetters - but yidak are locked into their insanities. Some laugh. Some cry. Some attack anything near them. But they can't be reasoned with, and they're savage enough-"

The chain rattles as, with another scream, the yidak tries to launch itself at Inks again. Maji snarls back, crouching protectively in front of his human even as the chain yanks it back again.

"... savage enough," Tatters continues, "that they can break even disciplined soldiers with a charge. It's hard to stand your ground in the face of a monster."

"I can imagine..." And Inks could- the way such a thing would defy conventional reason and tactics. Ignore the subtle and coarse influences that empowered a soldier or put him in peril. Of valor and morale...  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 2 "Valor", [4, 5] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

  
  
She wanted to put herself in front of this thing- not her actual desire- but the consequence of her goals. To reclaim El Galabi, to advance her agenda and take on the challenges that her ego and intellect thirsted for. Inks felt her heart pound against her chest, amplified all the more by the firm panels of enchanted jadesteel wrapped around her....

Maji's haunches bristled, and his growl intensified at the sense of his mistress's distress. Afraid. Uncertain... Even so Inks did not _flee_. Instead she stopped, and looked to Tatters. "I... I don't know what to do."

Tatters stepped closer. Took her hand. Held it tight.

"Understand," she said. "That this is what you're going to put yourself up against in El Galabi. That what you mean to fight is nothing like a human army. That you need to plan for the worst, because it's going to come screaming out of that walled-in city at you as soon as you breach it."

Her eyes, so rarely seen without her veil in the way, bore into Inks'. "And understand that I'll be there too," she finishes. "Even though I'm afraid. That just because it's scary doesn't mean it's not worth doing."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice!)  
>  Inks: (do you want to end the session there? It seems like a really good note)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, okay. Next session: The Rivers and the Greater Dead.))  
>  ST: ((:D))  
>  Inks: (I had fun! A lot more exposition than I expected, but probably for the best)  
>  ST: ((4xp + 1mxp for this session.))  
> 

  
  



	59. Chapter 59: Time With Tatters Part 2

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 59))  
>  ST: ((What are Inks' feelings as they leave Crass Piri's?))  
>  Inks: (want an IC reaction or an OC overview?)  
>  ST: ((IC, lead in as you wish. Tatters will be taking her towards the River that takes the place of Scartoll, leading out of the caldera.))  
> 

Shaken, feeling chills despite the snugness of the armor and the power of the artifact on her brow, Inks rubbed her hands against her arms. Enchanted leather rubbed against fine jadesteel plates that seemed to gleam with polish and care, but no matter what she did, nothing could fully pull the coldness out of her skin and bones.

Tatters wasn't blind to her fidgeting. "How do you feel?" she asked, as the moved through the gloomy streets towards what Inks knew as Scartoll. It's weird. They should be moving through Eighth Scorpion; a district Inks knows well and owns most of. But the buildings here are unfamiliar and strange; some standing out in the hues of Fetters, others bearing references to Houses or Despots centuries dead. 

"Not brave." Inks admitted. "Working on solving the problem, but not brave." She forced her hands to her side and took a breath. One step, two- she wasn't used to the new boots and her strut was off. "...I feel naked without a skirt." She slapped at her armored thighs while dodging another throng of shades hauling ghostly trade goods through the industrial streets. 

A riot of color caught her eye, and she had to look again to confirm that yes that was a bundle of wild, luridly colorful flowers for sale- blossoms that would not have grown in modern Gem without lots of money and water. Probably a fetter or passion. 

Finally, Inks settled on a word- "Ignorant. I'm feeling ignorant." 

From the sound of her voice, Tatters was smiling under the veil. "Well," she said, "that's why we're here. Ignorance can be cured." She pauses. "And my... someone I once knew always told me that bravery wasn't fearlessness. It's when you feel small and scared and worthless and move forward anyway." 

Tacitly _not_ mentioning the growing similarities to the other fastidiously private woman in her life, Inks hummed. "Usually how it works- where are we headed now?" 

"Well," Tatters said, "you've seen one Domain, and met the lesser Dead. So now I'm going to show you the Rivers, and how one gets from place to place down here. And I'll introduce you to an ally of mine. A more powerful breed of ghost." 

Her words are aptly timed. They round a corner past a row of unfamiliar buildings onto a space Inks' mental map insists should be a caravansary, and instead... 

... it's a River. 

This isn't a river of Creation. It's certainly not water, or even blood. No, this River flows from a black-beyond-black space like the chasm around the skull-palace, and it is dust and flaying sand and baking heat and screeching birds. It's sunburn and it's heatstroke and it's dehydration from sweat, it's the blindness of glare off the sand and the deadly chill of desert nights and the insects of the sands that feast on carrion. 

It is all of these things, and none of them at all. This is a cause of death, and it takes form as a river only because that's a shape from memories that flows and carries things downstream. Inks guesses its name without needing to be told. 

This is the Desert River. The River of Death by Exposure to the merciless elements of the wilds.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Int+Occult, Diff 2.))  
>  ST: ((Guessing something about why it's here _inside_ the city.))  
> 

"Question." There was flora around- odd scrub brush that seemed to be part of some ancient planter that blended phantasmically with the river bank somehow. She plucked a withered branch from it with a bone-dry snap (it was in fact bone, somehow).

Poking the bone-branch into the edge of the river, where the dust and thirst and arid heat was thinnest, Inks watched as the branch all but turned to sunbleached powder in her hand. "... Dammit I forgot my question."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I actually did forget my question, but I still stunted, int+occult 9, +2 autosux from 2nd excellency.)  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +2; [6, 8, 8, 4, 2, 1, 10, 7, 7] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Sure you're gonna Excellency? 9 dice for Diff 2 should be enough.))  
>  Inks: (it's only 4 motes)  
>  ST: ((Well, 2 stunt anyway. And I will give you extra for that threshold exceptional.))  
>  Inks: !ex 2; [2, 6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

Oh, she realizes as she watches the branch wither. Shit, no wonder this River ran through Dead Gem. Forget the arid desert around them that's imprinted on the memories of all who live here, forget the way slaves die in the streets from sunstroke, forget even the occasional duststorms that roll over the city every couple of months. Inks knows this River. She _recognizes_ this River.

This is the River that runs from the right eye of the Despot's Palace. And with Rankar in power? A man whose favourite punishment is staking people out to die in the sun? Who leaves the corpses of his political victims on the rocks to be eaten by birds? Small wonder. 

Which means that the _other_ River, the one of blood and gore and swordblades... that must be another leading cause of death in Gem. Death by Violence, if Inks were to guess. Who knows where that one runs? And if there isn't a third River of... oh, something like rubble and broken picks and bloodstained gems or something in the underbelly of that skull fortress, one that runs straight down through the Undermines... if that's not there, Inks will personally eat her shiny new helmet. 

Three Rivers of Death flowing from one palace. Inks is almost tempted to wonder whether that's a common thing in Domains like this. Do the memory-castles of rulers often have Rivers running from them? Or is Gem just that totalitarian that it has _three?_ She's honestly not sure which is the more cynical guess.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice!)  
>  Inks: (So what I'm getting is that Gem has likely 3 rivers, and that gives it a lot of power in context of the underworld- all roads lead to [Gem] I suppose?)  
>  ST: ((Well, _from_ Gem in this case, since they flow out. But yeah, it's certainly a local hub from which you can get to a lot of nearby Domains.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

"So..." Inks started reasoning aloud. "You go from Creation to a Shadowland- which is basically a small domain of the dead that sits 'on the surface' overlapping Creation. Then, any geographical or topographical 'downward' move takes you into the Underworld proper."

"It's not a linear connection though- not every shadowland will connect to the geographically relevant... Creation locale? Not every Gem Shadowland is going to lead to Dead Gem?" She looked over at Tatters for confirmation, but continued her musing. 

"And then these rivers, formed of a _memory of death_ extend outward from various domains, leading deeper still into the Underworld?" 

"Yes," Tatters agreed. "Mostly accurate. The Rivers are causes of death, and if you follow them long enough..." 

She pauses. 

"... don't," she concludes. "And never touch them unprotected, either. Your soul's light will push them back in the same way that it will push back the light of another soul, but without that... they're death in tangible form. Most things that get swept away by the Rivers never come back. And those that do, don't come back the same." 

She nods over to a nearby pier running alongside the river. Small boats and caravan-sandships crowd it, their ghostly captains jostling for position along the quay. "We'll need transport to safely navigate it. And on that note; remember the first rule of Underworld navigation. Down is easy. Up is hard." 

Leading Inks over, the dark-robed exorcist bangs her khakkara once on the pier as her feet meet it, and the nearby yelling drops to almost nothing. All eyes swing to them - some not particularly eye-like. Tatters tilts her head thoughtfully. 

"A learning experience," she says. "Find us a captain, Inks. We want to go to the Black Sands."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll depends on your stunt. :3))  
>  Inks: (Hmmm!)  
> 

Sandship traders, caravan porters, dockhands and long-sandmen. If not for the dry and the dead, she'd have been back in Nighthammer.

Shades choked the pier, most of them industrious and heedless of the sudden lack of direction- those few that had a glimmering of will beyond their nature were quickly put back to task by their minders, leaving only a few mere dozens of more present, engaged spirits. 

When all eyes turned away from Tatters and to Inks, she clapped to confirm their attention.. "I hold trade with Living Gem. I seek transport to the Black Sands."  
She pointned to one ghost- a strapping sort with the weight of ages and a lantern hanging from one hip, Inks nodded. "Your name?"

"Kazul" He rasped back.

"Your Passion?" She cocked her head, helmet adding exaggeration to the gesture. The ghost Kazul seemed to waver, but nodded. "Me mam's sandfish delight."  
That exchange formed the pattern- of brief introduction, question and answer. Many of the urges and desires were abstract, or lost to time and memory. Others more actionable.

"Satavan, Miss-" One polite sort said. "Books of all kinds."

"Iron-Eye Castal; the blood of the dunes." 

"Sweet Plunder of Gem; the kiss of a beautiful woman."

The dozens or so notions and drives, Inks wove those into a tappestry and mental file- sorting the costs and the benefits. She learned of their ships and crews, their routes and temperments. Who hauled when and where. With lightning-fast deliberation, she cut through the improbably and the ill-suited, until only the best and brightest transport remained.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Ooo, nice. Charisma+Bureaucracy for SORTING THE CROWD WITH SPEECHIFYING! Diff 3.))  
>  Inks: (Stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. For playing to their Passions and sorting them by their drives and types, 3-dot.))  
>  Inks: !ex 15 "Cha 3 Bur 5 Thunderminded Tycoon +3, +1d adept perk, +3 stunt!" [7, 6, 1, 1, 4, 5, 3, 10, 2, 2, 9, 6, 10, 9, 6] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

* * *

In the end, it was a ten-metre single-sailed sandship that came up as the best candidate for the trip - one that gleamed, as many of the ships did, with its' owners Passions. The captain, a taciturn ghost called Scail, wasn't a sharing sort, but Inks rather suspected he might have lived on the Anam Way in life as a windsinger. His sandship had a dragon's head prow, and something about the way it shone led her to suspect that it wasn't just a Passion. 

She was learning to distinguish them, helped out by Tatters' commentary and her own observations. The obsessions of the Dead fell into two rough groups. Passions, as Tatters named them - the obsessions that ghosts brought with them from life or built after death. And then true Fetters - the unfinished business that kept them from moving on, the things that made them rage and bite and claw and thrash against the pull of Lethe. Unlike Passions, the Fetters she'd identified were always things they wanted _done_ \- the craving for just one more shot of opium, the vengeful rage at a body defiled, the desire to kiss a woman loved and lost in life. 

This ship wasn't just a Passion, it was a manifestation of a Fetter, too. Maybe his ship had been destroyed with him, and he refused to pass on until he could arrange for its remains in life to be rebuilt. Maybe he was angry at whoever had taken it from him. Either way, the reinforcement of undead obsession made it a stronger, better craft, and Inks boarded with confidence and Tatters' approving nod. 

"Keep your head down," Tatters murmured as they set off. "And stay on the boat." 

It wasn't like traveling a normal river. For a start, this one wasn't confined to the ground. It was more like sailing _through_ a very insistent one-directional sandstorm; the shelter of the cabins and sails keeping them safe from the River itself touching them as it flowed around and above the deck. But even though they weren't fighting _against_ the current, Inks could see Scail was still fighting it. It didn't want them to sail downstream gracefully, joining the other tributaries to the main River - through which some truly gargantuan grave-barges cut brief trails of clear air. It didn't want them to sweep past the caldera gates into the howling sandstorm beyond. It didn't want them to _sail_. 

It wanted them to _sink_. The current was a malicious thing with a mind of its own, and it wanted them to capsize; to snarl their rudder or twist their sail, to flip the ship and cast all aboard into the River's teeth to be swept away. It wasn't very strong, this close to life, and Scail handled it effortlessly. But the further one followed it down... the stronger it would become.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice! Thinking)  
>  ST: ((React to the travel as you wish, and then roll me Wits+Awareness for Stuff In The River.))  
>  Inks: (Couple questions first, so it's not a '2d' river as you say, more like a wind tunnel almost, or like how Treasure Planet sailing works.)  
>  Inks: (Do the upper decks count as 'contact with the river', as the implication I'm getting is that the 'waters' of the river are all-encompassing. They're touching Everything they can reach. )  
>  ST: ((Yeah, Rivers aren't necessarily _rivers_ , they're "flowing things with currents that try to take you places against your will". That's _most often_ a river, because, well, the obvious. But it might also be a storm or a gale or a constant rockslide on a mountainslope or gravity.))  
>  ST: ((A ship or vessel or hull that can sail a River basically keeps the River-stuff out of the bits where the people are. So as long as you're in a location that memory-conceit would consider 'on the ship', you're fine - but if you go above the top of the sail, or over the side, you're in trouble.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent! That's all I needed)  
>  Inks: (Ah, I can't passively regenerate motes here can I? I have to flare my anima)  
>  ST: ((Yeah.))  
>  ST: ((What are you down to?))  
>  Inks: (Oh, I have like 45m left, I was just thinking of a very Inksian thing to do that would tap me out to zero)  
>  ST: ((... oh?))  
>  Inks: (Crack Mending Technique!)  
>  ST: ((... note that _this_ is just the grave good version of the ship. The real thing - assuming she's right in her first guess that one of his Fetters is rebuilding it - would presumably be a wreck out in the desert somewhere with his corpse.))  
>  Inks: (I am aware, but it still likely has taken damage or can take damage as a regular object, therefore it is a valid target for craft actions.)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, but it's in pretty good shape as is, so I'm not sure what she'd be Crack-Mending that would tap her out of 45 motes.))  
>  Inks: (Anything/everything, just because she can. And then Scail would be like "...Wot" and just go with it because Fetter is now Better. I'll not do it though)  
>  ST: ((Well, heh. Like I said; react as you wish.))  
> 

* * *

Hours passed in a fitful cycle of creaking timbers, sandblown howls and fiercer things aside. Tatters for her part looked almost _bored_ , nearly dozing, while Inks found herself at loose ends. 

Meandering above decks, she watched the sailors haul on the rigging, shift cargo and go about the various sundry tasks of keeping a ship in sailing order. Something that struck her- was that the land of the dead, this Underworld and it's people were not... full of decay. Oh they were obviously dead- like Crass Piri and her opium den- but she wasn't seeing the base, macabre signs of rot and filth that marked the dead and dying. 

Out past the railing, Inks watched the river- less a river and more a howling, spiraling storm of desert misery and ill-intent. This was a river of _Executions_ , not mere 'death by exposure'- and it showed with every gust and current.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (wits+aware stunt?)  
>  ST: ((2-die stunt - also small correction, it is Death by Exposure in general; Rivers are pretty broad things. Though yes, the nature of Rankar's favourite sentence means there's a distinct 'staked out to die' flavour to it near the source.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8; [3, 7, 5, 4, 5, 6, 5, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((Ho hum.))  
> 

She gets a split-second's warning as it comes. Some kind of _surge_ from further upstream... no, from _downstream_. Something sent up subtly that's now sweeping back down. A natural fluctuation? Intentional sabotage? Some kind of nightmarish hunting method?

There's no way to tell. Inks barely has time to scream an alert as the trio of rogue waves rise out of the river; densely-packed wedges of flaying sand and screaming birds and blinding sunglare. They're not aimed directly at the ship, so this probably isn't pointed at her - but the trailing edge smashes into the runners before Scail can get them out of the way. Inks barely has time to react.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So! You juuuust barely made the Diff 2 roll, though lack of thresholds meant no advance warning. However, this means you didn't get taken by surprise, and have an unpenalized reaction roll.))  
>  Inks: (Yeeeeesss glorious Action- is this a balance check, something else?)  
>  ST: ((What that roll _is_ depends on what Inks chooses to do. She's on the side away from the one the wave clipped, so she can make a balance/Athletics roll to leap away from the wedge and either onto another passing ship or even try to make it to a bank - the River is mechanically a potent hazard, but her armour will offer pretty good protection against it since it's airtight.))  
>  ST: ((Or she can risk going _towards_ the clipped wing and try to help, or something else entirely.))  
>  Inks: (Oh! Okay so this is like- jump overboard or jump into the fray or take a third option, give or take?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, with "fray" replaced by "there's a big chunk of the ship suddenly missing". She's making a balance check no matter what, because the ship just got punched in the everything.))  
>  Inks: (OH! that it's missing a chunk wasn't clear yet. Good to know. Definitely activating Graceful Crane Stance for starters, thinking/stunting)  
> 

The impact tossed Inks into the air, and in that same motion, she caught her balance in a graceful flip that belied the weight of her armor. Landing on the deck with both feet, she skid backwards to bleed off the momentum while her head whipped left and right. A chunk of the ship was _gone_ , and a significant portion of the crew were dangling on by a creaking rope!

Trusting her strength, Inks snatched up the rope just as it broke, heaving and hauling hand over hand. Other crewmen were there in a flash, while Scail cursed and spat to keep his vessel in one piece. Through all of this, Inks turned the majority of her vast intellect and attention to _solving the problem_ :

How were they going to get the ship to safety, and to their destination?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So the crewmember saving is an incidental action as part of the stunt, I'll take a penalty if you demand it, but the 'meat' of my stunt is the last line of 'Int+[Ability]')  
>  ST: ((Okay, so what's Inks looking to do? What's her goal? Beach the ship safely and asap in the nearest domain?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm.. Yeah this is one of those... I keep forgetting I need to decide that kind of thing. Yes, that sounds accurate to my intent. Beach the ship safely and asap.)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so the current situation is: there's a giant chunk missing from the side of the ship, and as a result the River-stuff is boiling in. The best way for Inks to deal with this is to get enough of a patch-job working that the crew can sail them towards the nearest bank _immediately_ , given that a full fix is impossible at present due to a) River-stuff everywhere + general chaos and b) a significant chunk of the ship being twenty metres downstream in the form of splintered debris.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, so I'd be rolling to implement that?)  
>  ST: ((As such, gimme Dex+Craft Diff 4 at -5 external penalty from lack of tools, time, familiarity and also the surrounding general chaos. Also roll me Stamina+Endurance at Trauma 4, with 3 automatic successes from your lovely pretty gorgeous armour keeping the River-stuff off you.))  
>  ST: ((Declare Charms.))  
>  Inks: (Nice! So while I'm re-reading it, would Crack Mending apply here? I don't know if we ever ruled that it can waive raw materials- just fasteners, glue, etc)  
>  ST: ((It would!))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 +3 "Sta+Res"; [9, 1, 2, 8, 3, 4] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (stunting)  
>  ST: ((Inks is fine and cozy in her lovely armour.))  
>  ST: ((CMT can't replace the whole runner that's been ripped off, but it can certainly patch up the hole in the ship-memory that's letting the River-stuff in.))  
>  Inks: (CNNT + Crack Mending Technique, so I go from 'No Tools' to 'Basic Tools' for purposes of repair actions and I downgrade strategic repair to Trivial Repair.)  
>  Inks: (+ 6m on 2nd Craft for 3 autosux. That's 23 more motes. I'm about half empty)  
>  ST: ((External penalty downgraded to -2.))  
> 

With the crew sorted for the moment and Scail cursing harder than ever, Inks surged into motion- boots beating marks into the decking as she rushed towards the ruined quarter of the ship. Wading through the scouring, scalding, impossible melange of dry death, she all but slammed into a bulkhead.

A ghost was next to her, half-consumed by the River but still bailing it out with a bucket that was slowly dissolving with every toss. "Get out of here lady! This is no place for passengers!" 

Inks didn't reply- focusing on the timbers and bulwarks. Ships carried extra timber for a reason, and a ghostly vessel was no exception. She didn't have enough for the missing runner- not right that second, but her hand was a plane and her knuckles a hammer. Golden sunfire erupted out of her arms in wire traceries that mimicked her tattoo. 

Plank after plank, she pressed a patch into place until the whole was sealed and the crew swept in behind her- pushing the deadly scorching sunlight and blistering sands off the deck with brooms as well as buckets.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunt?)  
>  ST: ((Nice. 3 dice for sheer batshit lunacy.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3 -2; [8, 4, 8, 4, 7, 8, 1, 3, 7, 5] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold 2!)  
> 

The minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly. Ghosts dissolved beside her as they bailed, shrieking as the River's touch flensed their vulnerable corpuses like acid - the obsessions that kept them from Lethe swept away by the touch of death made manifest.

Even the ship itself was trying to dissolve; the protections that kept it proof against its environment broke it - but as fast as broken planks dissolved, Inks replaced them even faster! She couldn't do anything for the runner; not without throwing herself off the boat like the bodies she'd seen swept away - she'd saved some, but not all. But she _could_ get the flaying sands and pecking birds off the deck. Inch by inch, plank by plank, she boarded up the gaping rent and pulled ghosts back from fatal falls, pushing away those who were starting to lose cohesion onto safer parts of the deck. 

Eventually, she was finished - and almost at the same time, they broke through the edge of the sandstorm and ran aground onto black sand. The side with the missing runner tilted and fell, the mast groaned, and with a mournful creak the entire ship tipped over sideways onto the cold dune, throwing up a spray of coarse grains.  
All but bouncing on one hand off the side of the ship, Inks heaved herself upright. She all but ignored the slant of the deck, making her way up to the surface. Once there, she let out a low, gusty breath and took stock. "Well that was... Blech." 

The ship- intact if worse for the wear. The crew- suffered a few casualties, and sadly she had no idea if any of her medical knowledge would be useful. Tatters... she wasn't sure where Tatters was. But looking out at the 'shore', she saw hints of this Black Sands they were striving for in the first place.  
"Captain Scail!" Inks raised an arm and waved. "What's our status?"

A litany of curses in a number of Firetongue dialects indicated that it probably wasn't "fine and dandy". The ghost seemed so overwhelmed with rage at the damage to his ship that he wasn't paying a lick of attention to anything else. 

Still, Inks could take a headcount. They'd lost... perhaps half the crew, either to being swept overboard or to the touch of the Rivers. Of those left, half were badly maimed, with wounds that looked like strong acid burns - or simply empty missing gaps where flesh had been eaten away like wood under termites. The ship's hull was intact, but the sail was ragged and it was missing a runner. Tatters was nowhere to be found - either choosing a truly terrible time to play her hiding game, or among those lost to the River. 

And as to where they were... 

Inks looked out at an endless expanse of black dunes. In some places, heat haze rose off the sands in such strength that it must be hot enough to cook anyone who walked there. In others, like this, it was freezing cold - the chill of the desert night. There were mirage-like oases in the distance that danced and span, and bones scattered here and there among the sand - some of them growing into macabre skeletal-cacti. 

Most of all there was a profound emptiness. This wasn't the hustle and bustle of Dead Gem; still a city even in death. This was the memory of dying alone and unheard, uncountable miles from the nearest human being or living thing, in a landscape that didn't care about you and wouldn't even notice your passing.  
The sandstorm-edge of the River blew past them, hundreds of metres away off to her left. The shrieks of the birds seemed mocking. 

Maji strained to get out of her tattoo, cooped up for hours- and with a thought Inks let her familiar bound free onto the sands. He padded around, fur and bronze plates bristling with undisguised irritation. 

Following, Inks let her hand idly scratch at the ruff of fur around his neck while she thought. "Well this is _marvelous_ " She scanned the horizon, taking a shallow breath and letting her heart slow.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Aware, playing to Inks's stronger attribute!)  
>  ST: ((She looking for anything in particular, or just general details?))  
>  Inks: (the latter)  
>  ST: ((Roll it, then. 2-die stunt, +1 assistant from Maji.))  
>  Inks: !ex 12; [1, 9, 4, 5, 5, 1, 8, 6, 6, 1, 1, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: (Wow.)  
>  Inks: (I forgot I had 2 more dice from the ashigaru armor... oh well)  
> 

It was a very empty place, really. There was nothing. Just the empty dunes, the sparse cacti, the semi-distant River, the moving fig- the moving figure?  
Huh, yes. Maji's huff drew Inks attention to the only moving part of the landscape that wasn't the River - a small black shape perhaps half a mile distant, making its way steadily across the dunes in their rough direction. It looked human-size, at least, and was proceeding at walking pace, so it probably wasn't some kind of yidak-monster coming to devour them all.

Glancing back at the ship and Scail, Inks wondered if calling for him would be worth it- No, probably not. She took a few more steps forward, long strides that put enough distance between her and the ship that if she had to flare her soul, she _probably_ wouldn't ruin anything. Standing with her tiger at her side, Inks had no weapon in hand, but Chronicle was always nearby.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (waiting for the figure to get closer + getting some more space to maneuver)  
> 

As it drew nearer, it resolved into a figure - humanoid, yes, cloaked and robed. For a few moments Inks actually thought it was Tatters... but no. The black cloak this being wore was ragged and tattered, and a white mask with wide, stylistically-terrified eyes and no mouth peeked out from under the hood. Something about her presence chilled the air further, and Inks' blood ran cold as she halted just beyond spear's range.

And curtsied. 

Weeeeellll! Inks bowed in reply, and Maji's belligerence gave way to feline confusion, which segued into disinterested boredom. "Greetings!" She tried in Flametongue, carefully assessing the newcomer for her intent and demeanor.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Reading Motive mundane method, per+invest against target's man+soc /2)  
>  ST: ((Diff 6.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [4, 8, 2, 7, 10, 7, 7, 2, 1] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((Niiiiiiice))  
> 

It's tricky to read her as she comes up from her polite curtsey with a flutter of skirts. Something about that mask is making it more difficult than it should be. But... Inks _thinks_ she's not here by coincidence. And she wasn't just coming to investigate the wreck, either. She was looking for Inks, specifically.

"Can I help you?" She cocked her head to one side. The sand blew around them both in sluggish gusts that would have been icy if it were not bone dry. 

One hand goes to the place where a mouth should be, as if to hide a laugh. She's amused this... ghost? Yeah, probably a ghost. She inclines her head and gestures elegantly at Inks - it's rather the other way around, the gesture implies. 

Tatters _had_ mentioned a contact - no, an ally here, who she'd wanted to introduce Inks to. Is this her? 

"Are you who we're supposed to meet? We know an exorcist- about yea high-" Inks held a hand up around Tatter's height. "Wears mourning clothes, carries a ringed exorcist's staff?" 

A slow nod. Then a look at the ship, and a questioning head tilt. 

Apparently Tatters' friend isn't much of a talker. 

Cocking her head again, Inks hummed. So this was another kind of ghost- one Tatters wanted her to meet. She lacked much in the way of tools, but she could make a few educated guesses based on her clothes- the locale. The funerary mask...  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Per+Occult))  
>  ST: ((Diff 5))  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +2 "4m for +2 autosux"; [4, 4, 2, 3, 10, 4, 8, 6, 3] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
> 

This is an old ghost. A very old ghost. Inks doesn't recognize what few cultural symbols she wears - a necklace, a bracelet and a badge with some official-looking symbol sewn to her sleeve. She has no obvious Passions, no clear powers - save the mask, which might be an artifact.

But... her pale hands are plague-scarred, when she reveals them. Her skin tone isn't one of the common ones around Gem. And she's out here in the Black Sands. Maybe this is one of the many, many Contagion-Dead - perhaps from the cultures that were based around the Anam, back when it was a flowing river rather than a trail of blood and warfare. 

"Hmm..." Sitting down with her back braced against Maji's side, Inks encouraged the other figure to do the same. "I feel safe in assuming we shouldn't need Tatters to actually converse, but you're not _speaking_ as I'd understand it. If you can't tell me your story, could you show it?" 

The ghost spreads her hands; her gestures unnaturally verbose. She's noone, really, her body language conveys. She doesn't remember her past - and she doesn't like to speak of it. But - she makes a beckoning motion - they should try to find their friend. Inks must have some idea of where she might be... right?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (heh, I can pick up a cue.)  
>  ST: ((I'm not saying she speaks Ekoese, but it's probably a related dialect. :V))  
> 

Nodding, Inks hiked back to her feet and started making her way back to the ship and crew. Things were getting sorted now, and Scail was no less perturbed when she got back- though Inks swore he gave her an approving, grateful nod for saving his ship. Pretty sure that was a nod.

If Tatters were anywhere, it'd be below decks in the shadows where Inks left her, or... somewhere else. Oh boy this was going to be _fun_.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Lookin for Tatters!)  
>  ST: ((Per+Inv! Base Diff, sux define how much you learn.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [6, 7, 1, 9, 2, 8, 4, 3, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 3 "forgot style"; [1, 3, 5] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

Well, there was no sign of Tatters. And if she was doing her shadow-hiding thing, she'd apparently fallen asleep - or was using this as a "learning experience". More likely, though... Inks mapped out the deck based on her last memory of just before the wave, and what parts were damaged. Tatters hadn't been napping _on_ the part of the deck that had been ripped away in the first strike... but she couldn't have been more than a metre or two away from it. Yeah, she'd probably gone overboard. Which meant downriver.

Troublesome. 

Drat. Heading back uptop, Inks flagged Scail's attention away from his ship for a scant few seconds. "Captain- my associate was lost overboard and she's likely downriver. Do you have an idea of how to find her?" 

Scail gives her a careless shrug. He doesn't care, really - and he's more focused on his ship. One of the other ghosts isn't quite so obsessively distracted, though. 

"Most likely, dead," he says in a slurred voice; pained by the River-burns. "But if her magics shielded her from th'River, search down s'banks. Start from th'next domain down - current's too fast f'r her to be here."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice. So what I'm hearing is that I gotta go to the next domain that follows the Black Sands... and iirc each domain is basically a bubble- there's no way to walk out of the Black Sands into another bordering domain, right?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, gotta go by River from domain to domain.))  
>  Inks: (Got it. Then we need a boat, or Inks needs to basically surf her anima into the next domain)  
>  Inks: (or our masked friend can do soething magically potent?)  
>  Inks: (Not that Inks knows either way)  
>  ST: ((One way to find out!))  
>  Inks: (one last question- how far does anima flare reach under these conditions? Same as core?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent, thanks)  
>  Inks: (Step 1: Asking Masky if she can get them to the next domain. Step 2: Top up motes since there's Nothing Here to really hurt with sunlight. Once that's done...)  
> 

It takes a few moments of discussion- she asks Tatter's contact a few questions- can she transport them further downriver on their own, or would they both need Scail's vessel, and so on. Even so Inks took the time to walk a fair distance away from everyone and slowly coax her anima out- the black sands were bleached to bone white under the light of her soul, and she felt her inner reserve swell with power.

"Captain! Apologies for the distractions, but if you have sufficient timber and riggings, I can help you fix your ship!" She demonstrated ably by vaulting up from the shore to the deck and laying hands on the sails, stretching the weave and weft until there was almost no sign of a rip or frayed line. 

Looking back at Scail, she nodded. "If you'll give the time, I'll have your ship fixed to the best of my ability."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, hmm. He doesn't for this level of damage, but Inks can harvest the bone-cacti to make up for materials. What level of anima-flare did she go to?))  
>  Inks: (I'm sta+res 6 now, so I can do Bonfire mode. This is one of those awkward stations where 'per action' screws over dramatic timescales though. 4m/per action)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, I mean, if she does it for a scene of sitting out in the wastes and pondering the events that brought her here and also how she's kind of melting everything within a hundred yards into blasted featureless slag, that's a top-off.))  
>  ST: ((It's also five hours of strenuous activity.))  
>  Inks: (Yeah I get that, but I basically can do 6 hours nonstop, so I have 1 hour surplus)  
>  ST: ((Yup yup. Just noting that, given that there's no actual reason you couldn't have gone caste-mark level to top off instead, if you're going to be sitting out in the wastes for a full scene either way.))  
>  Inks: (Oh! Sorry! That makes more sense. Thanks for telling me. Castemark it is)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. Much smaller area of completely slagged featureless scar that isn't even sand because she's burnt the memory-stuff of the domain away to nothing but a seared-clean blank slate.))  
>  Inks: (neat)  
>  Inks: (So CNNT + Crack Mending + 2nd Craft to get Scail's ship back together)  
>  Inks: (dex craft again?)  
>  ST: ((So, fixing the ship is a two-day long job where you're rolling Dex+Craft at Diff 3. You have a +2 assistant bonus. Go for it, and apply time reducers, etc.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3; [3, 5, 7, 10, 3, 4, 1, 2, 6, 7] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Niiiice!))  
>  ST: ((How long did that take you with your speed-boosters?))  
>  Inks: (Well, we don't do hourly tracking, so combined it takes any strategic action down 2 steps whencombined. So 'Major to Minor' and Minor to Trivial')  
>  Inks: (Old CNNT/CMT would have been [Ess x3] work hours of work per realtime hour.)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, I'll assume that just takes it down a couple of steps from days to hours to quarter-hours. Which means Inks does it in half an hour. Because she is bullshit.))  
>  Inks: (Yeee)  
>  Inks: (Of course that's another 7+10+6m spent)  
> 

* * *

It takes a couple of hours of sitting and recovering her strength - and incidentally slagging a streak of desert to nothingness as even the texture of the sand is burnt away by the sunlight emanating from her caste mark - for Inks to feel back at full strength. During which time she is _very, very careful not to turn her head_. Her masked new friend seems curious, if wary, and politely sits behind her, probably not intending the way her mere presence sends chills up Inks' spine and a rush of cold fear through her blood alongside a creeping terror of whatever's lurking behind her. 

She's a ghost, after all. She may have forgotten she has that effect on people. 

Once back at full strength, the rebuilding of the ship is complete in record time; a combination of onboard repair materials and scavenged bone-cacti recreating the runner, fixing the side of the hull back up to standard, and patching the holes in the sail. Time isn't easy to track down here, but Inks guesses it can't be much more than half an hour before she's done. 

Hopefully Tatters hasn't been washed too far downstream while she's been busy. 

Patting her hand against the hull with one more final fix, Inks nods. "Captain!" She called up from below decks with a smile. "I think we're ready to get underway. What do you think?" 

"Aye!" Scail seems a lot more willing to talk now that his ship is fixed up - and much more kindly inclined to Inks and her new friend. "For your service; this journey free! And any others after it! Where are we headed?" 

"Downriver, looking for my friend!" 

He salutes. They pile aboard - the masked woman included. And, with some manpower to push them back into the howling sandstorm... they set off once more.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay.))  
>  ST: ((Calling a pause there; continue tomorrow.))  
>  Inks: (Legit! Having a lot of fun!)  
>  ST: ((Good to hear. ^_^))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, I had this planned as a way to kick Inks out on her own, I just didn't manage to get to it last session, which is why it felt a bit guided-toury.))  
>  Inks: (you totally did Togashi Tatters.)  
>  ST: ((hush ye))  
>  ST: ((: P))  
>  ST: ((Session 59 cont))  
> 

* * *

They sail - this time with more of an eye out for sudden surges in the River - down into the depths of the Underworld. And that's literal, Inks realizes. The River they're sailing in is getting deeper, larger - higher above their heads and broader from bank to bank. She wouldn't be at all surprised if the logic of this realm meant that the deepest Rivers went literally underground; enclosed things with stronger currents and fiercer rapids. 

But for now they're still near the surface, although not just under it as they were. They're venturing down to the Underworld of eras past, and as they sail, they move to a new River; one that runs alongside the one of heat and pecking birds and blinding glare that they travel. 

This new one is similar in a way, and it doesn't take more than a second for Inks to identify what it must be. This River is shrieking laughter and bloodstained gossamer silk and ghostly lights and endless gnashing teeth, and it tumbles chaotically - closer to the ground than the enveloping sandstorm-River, but bulging up into figures and scenes and wisps that tempt the eye and grasp at trailing lines and hands.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Oh! So that's how it works. I hadn't realized the rivers could cross over each other or fork/merge.)  
>  Inks: (Fair Folk death?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. Balorian Crusade.))  
>  Inks: (Neat!)  
>  ST: ((Inks may be able to guess ahead of time where they're headed, if she wants to.))  
>  ST: ((She can also start planning for how she's going to look for/find Tatters.))  
> 

"Hmm..." Inks had taken it upon herself to pace the decks- more a lazy saunter. Scali and his crew had things well in hand now that they had their one brush with crisis. "Captain- Just a guess here, but I get the impression we're heading..." She blinked and looked back at Tatter's contact, recalling she was Contagion-dead.  
She hummed again. "Okay so if _you're_ contagion dead, and we're in the river of fair-folk death... I want to guess we're heading towards a domain of the Balorian Crusade, but that might be too old. Impacci's Vengeance?"

The voiceless lady shakes her head, fluttering her fingers to point the other way. Out towards the desert from Gem. Somewhere in the Desert that felt the Crusade... ah. 

It looks like Inks' first look at Anam will be of what it used to be. 

"Pff. Shows what I know." She moved over to starboard side of the ship and looked out across the River- until it started to give way to the once grand lands of the Anam Way. If it were anything like Dead Gem, the 'younger' cultures would be pushing down on the older ones. So the various cultures Ajjim had described to her would probably make up the top-most layer. 

Unfortunately, they've been traveling downriver. The Bloody Sands of the Anam Way are "above" them by the illogical domain-geometry of the Underworld, and what they sail into now... 

... what they sail into now is a realm of scorched and faded bounty. 

It's not a desert. Rather, it's a long-lost paradise. Rich fields go on for miles in every direction; shades working them in great strider-suits that lift a dozen haybales with a single clawlike hand or thresh acres of crops in hours with great sweeps of enormous blades. A vast pyramid looms on the horizon, and looking at it, Inks can smell a sweet scent and feel wild joy coil round her. Grand facilities chew up the endless harvest from the fields and process it into food, and bustling towns are built around them. 

But. 

That's only the surface impression. The kindest. Because the fields are scorched by some terrible fire, and many are bare. The shades labour endlessly, for they are all too few in number. The facility-towns they pass bear a desperate hum that Inks can hear even from the middle of the river, and the ghosts she sees have fearful burdens on their shoulders. 

Three Rivers cut across this land. The death-by-raksha one Scail steers them down winds through the fields, while a waterway of rotting blood and puke and pus discharge from open sores passes through the larger towns. 

But it's the third River that courses along what can only be the memory of the Anam, and on that river there are no ships and no barges. No River-caught Dead float down it towards Oblivion and no ghosts dare approach its spire-lined banks. 

Because this River isn't the memory of something that killed humans - or at least not in a way that leaves ghosts. This, Inks concludes, must be the memory of what killed Anam as a region. The final blow, remembered by those who survived the Contagion and the Crusade and died afterwards, bringing with them the shape of how a once-fertile paradise had become naught but dust and sand. 

This is a River of pyreflame - not the ghostly phosphorescent echo of it that came from Tatters' spell, but the real stuff; bright and sickly and vivid. It's the memory of the fires that swept away fever and fae and foe in one fell swoop, and its flickering light is terrible indeed.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Daaang)  
>  ST: ((do not fall into that river))  
>  Inks: (So! Tatters finding question: Does each domain count as a realm of existence as per Infallible Messenger?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. The whole Underworld does, actually.))  
>  ST: ((Cherubs can travel along the Rivers just fine.))  
>  Inks: (Imma cast Infallible Messenger then.)  
>  ST: ((Well, most of the Rivers. Things can get kinda weird in the Labyrinth, but if you're sending IMs from the Labyrinth you have bigger problems.))  
> 

Cracking her gauntleted knuckles, Inks eased into a broad stretch with her arms over her head- the armor so well engineered that even that motion was only somewhat hitched up. "Maji!"

The tiger thumped up from below decks, and the crew ghosts gave him a wide berth that he approved of. Giving his snout a fond stroke, Inks channeled her will and Essence into his form. "Speak with my voice and find Tatters- tell her we have arrived in the memory of the River Anam, and to reply back if she can." 

With a roar and a rush of essence-laden wind, he takes off. It isn't long - perhaps ten minutes - before he returns, Tatters' ghostly familiar alongside him.  
"Inks," it says. Her voice sounds pained from her mouth, and the rattle from her punctured lung is stronger than usual. "I was washed further downstream, but I know the domain you mean. Stay there. Find a place to wait, and send Maji again so I know where to meet you. Don't come any deeper - if I'm not there in a few hours; get out. There's something coming up the Rivers from further down. You need to be gone before it reaches Burnt Anam." 

Maji rumbles as the kitten turns and vanishes. He doesn't look happy - wherever Tatters is and whatever he saw there; it's got his hackles up.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I was about to ask if Familiar-cast IMs have the implicit sensory memory of y'know, being a familiar~)  
>  ST: ((So, Inks needs to a) pick out a suitable location or landmark in the domain to direct Tatters to - she can make a Per+Awa roll at standard Difficulty to look for obvious and easy-to-find places - and also whether she's going to listen to Tatters' firm "don't come after me and leave me behind if I'm late".))  
>  ST: ((*and b) whether etc))  
> 

Hunkering down to give Maji a good, rewarding scratch around the ruff of his head and jaw, Inks cocked her head and listened to his growls and muted snarls. He concluded with a fond chuf, encouraging his mistress to go forth and conquer-

Conferring with Scail, she tried to describe what Maji himself saw to see if they recognized what landmark, domain or river Tatters found herself in.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Before I do that, Friendship W/ Animals Technique to get a description from Maji, and then an int+invest/occult? action to determine Tatter's Location.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Alright. Gimme Int+Inv at Diff 8 to identify the deep domain Tatters is in from a secondhand account, with a -2 external from Maji not having much in the way of sightseeing capability when he's wrapped up in anima-winds and moving at hundreds of miles an hour.))  
>  Inks: (stunt?)  
>  Inks: (and invoking the crew as aides)  
>  ST: ((+1 from the crew, and +3 for the actually kind of brilliant and unexpected idea of trying to ID where she is by what Maji saw.))  
>  Inks: (Alright!)  
>  Inks: !ex 24 -2 "Int 5 Inv 4 +2 from Style, +1 aide, +3 stunt, +9 1st Investigation"; [9, 2, 2, 7, 1, 1, 6, 9, 5, 8, 2, 10, 9, 5, 7, 8, 4, 7, 4, 2, 5, 8, 1, 7] was rolled for 10 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold _two_ )  
> 

Whispering to Maji and interpreting the growls and flashes of memory-sense from their bond, Inks describes to Scail a dark place of fat-trunked trees and moaning grasses, where the shades are monstrous, twisted things and the ghosts are... wrong, in some way that he can't specify. A place where Tatters seemed faded and wan under her veil, where the Rivers ran broad and wide and swift at the bottom of deep-carved gorges, and eye-hurting glyphs were carved into the sides of cliffs in black-beyond-black.

Scail's face creases in disgust and fear. He shakes his head slowly. "Never been down that far myself," he tells her. "Burnt Anam's tributaries are as far as I take my ship. But I've heard Anam was a wild land before the Shogunate came and conquered it. Salthra, it was called back then." 

He spits over the side of the boat. "Naught down there but spectres and nephwracks now," he finishes. "A cursed place that sends its filth upriver." 

"My friend's in trouble- or near enough to not make a difference." Inks noted. "So before I decide about going to her- I want to get an idea if I _can_ get to her. Would you and your ship survive the trip if we made the attempt?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Read Motive/Principle))  
>  Inks: (Mastery of Small Manners applies?)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (Activated for 3m)  
>  Inks: (So I get a 3suxread of his motives just by default)  
>  ST: ((That... is actually enough, given Principle modifiers!))  
>  Inks: (Do you mean against MDV?)  
>  ST: ((No, but the fact she knows his strongest Passions is modifying her Difficulty.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 

Inks took a moment to watch Scail's face, how his fetter and passion overlapped- and how in a very literal sense, she was asking him to put his unlife on the line.

He's torn. She can _see_ how he's torn. He was serious earlier when he swore to take her wherever she wished; he really meant it. And if he was a living man he might well follow through on it; take her even into what he might think to be certain death. 

But he's not a living man. He's a ghost. And while she can see on his face that he's not sure if they'd survive or not... that's just it. He's not sure. And a 'maybe' of his ship's destruction is more than he can go through with. 

If she wants to get to Tatters herself, instead of waiting here, Inks is going to have to find new means of transport. 

To a living man, Inks would have lifted her mask, smiled a pretty smile with full lips- maybe even touched his arm or kissed his cheek. To Scail, he had no interest for such things. Instead she laid a hand on the rail of his vessel, noting the weight of age and memory and will that went into it. As a ghost he might not have been a complete person, but he was still more than worthy of her compassion. 

"You've already done a great deal for me- if you are willing to wait here in Burnt Anam for a short while until I retrieve my friend or she me- I would appreciate having a trusted crew and proven vessel to get upriver." 

She turned to Tatter's mute friend. "Would you help me find her, or would you rather stay here with the ship?"

The masked lady wobbles her hand. She's worried about Tatters too, and wants to go help. But on the other hand, she's not sure it's a good idea to go looking. A gesture at Maji and two fingers waved past one another points out that Tatters will be expecting Inks to be at a landmark she can aim for. If Inks goes looking for her... how will she find their mutual friend, and not just pass each other by and end up even more lost and in peril?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Ahh PC problems- the desire to take action and have agency vs _common sense_ )  
>  ST: ((Just floating out there, but nothing says Inks can't find _and prepare_ a location for whatever might be following Tatters back up~))  
>  Inks: (Ahah!)  
>  Inks: (So that's a conveyance issue- I had no idea a following was going to happen, so I had no way to make a decision about laying a trap)  
>  Inks: (Or even just a 'My friend is hurt, get her a clean room to rest and be treated)  
>  ST: ((Well, what Tatters said was 'wait for me, I'm coming upriver, don't come down after me, there's something horrible coming up from the depths'.)  
>  ST: ((It's not certain there'll be something after her, but it's possible.))  
>  Inks: (Ah! Okay so that's far more clear. Thanks for bringing it back to my attention)  
> 

"Mmmm..." The frustration was real and obvious in the slant of Inks's shoulders. "I know what domain she's in, but not her location. I don't have a scrying spell nor am I at all good at tracking- let alone in the Underworld. None of our ghostly allies..." She trailed off even as Scail eased his ship into port where dockyard shades reached for ropes.

Scanning the region, she hummed- Looking for a landmark was hardly a waste of time even if it wasn't her preferred plan. There was not a lot in the way of hills, but the Anam way still had the memories of the great Pillars of Anam, changed and distorted by the nostalgia of the dead. 

Most of the riverside was that of a trade culture or mercantile interest- awnings and stalls to shade cargo as it moved from ship to ship- all of it ignoring the pyreflame river that defied geography to loop around in awkward, eye-hurting ways. 

But for all the richness, Inks was struck still by how desolate the place was- depopulated. Like Tatters had said before- more shades meant a healthy realm- and it said a lot that you could _call_ an underworld domain healthy.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+aware to find a landmark)  
>  ST: ((I actually gave you the Diff for that just before you used Maji to suss out where Tatters was. :P))  
>  ST: ((Diff 1.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8; [4, 7, 3, 10, 6, 8, 8, 7] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((I will provide a number of possible places depending on roll.))  
>  ST: ((Cool, so.))  
> 

There are several places that jump out at her. First and foremost, of course, is the enormous distant pyramid that dominates the domain. It's certainly unmissable, though it's a way away, and whatever subtle mental effect it has may get stronger up close. Alternatively, there are the towns along the River of Plague - the largest ones are few in number, and likely have names. Or, of course, there's the dangerous option. The river of pyreflame is even more unmissable than the pyramid, with effigies of the Pillars hammered in along it - and while it would be dangerous for Inks, it would no doubt be more so for anything that might assault her there.

>   
>  Inks: (Nice. Gonna write the traversal to the pyreflame banks)  
>  ST: ((Note that this is a much less "healthy" domain than Dead Gem - it's slipping down in the Underworld, and is scarred from the cataclysms.))  
> 

* * *

"Thank you, Captain Scail!" Inks hopped off the deck once the ship was tied off, and Tatter's ally seemed to float on some eerie cushion of air that defied weight. "I expect to be back in less than a day or not at all!" 

Together the pair moved through the sparsely-populated streets, but even then Inks could see evidence of the ghostly citizens eeking out a kind of life for themselves. Grave goods, strange tinctures and elixirs that promised hints of their lost living senses, stranger things aside. And even exotic imports from Creation, ferried in by traders and shipmasters like Scail. Crystal phials of ordinary water sold for sums that would beggar kings were hawked alongside shade-binding chains of dark, cold metal. 

These markets were populated enough that Inks could ask directions, and while her charm did her little good, her commitment was unshakable. Eventually she, Maji and her nominal ally reached the shores of the Pyreflame River- 

Noting a half-collapsed cargo crane, Inks plucked a discarded banner of red from the wreckage and tied it to the highest point- before sending Maji off once more to tell Tatters the location. 

This close to the River, it's truly fear-inducing. There's no heat - the flames are icy cold - but they eat through anything and everything that they touch. Inks shades her eyes from the vivid glow; all greens and blues and violets with a core of black, like a living candleflame's colours inverted. It's one of the only bright things out here - but it's not the realer-than-real beauty of a Passion. This is fire without any of its positive qualities like warmth or cooking or forging - fire that does nothing but destroy. 

Inks certainly wouldn't survive a dunk in them, she can tell that much instinctively. She's honestly not sure Chronicle would. Instead, she turns her attention to the Pillars that line the shore. _Those_ , now... those are impressive. She's set up near one of the largest, to make it easy for Tatters to find them, and the great steep obelisk climbs forty or fifty metres into the air - a vast needle plunged into the ground. Blood trickles from its carvings in an endless stream, flowing into the river and catching light as soon as it touches the flame.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Does Inks want to examine them?))  
>  Inks: (Sure, (Per+Occult?)  
>  ST: ((Well, hmm. Let's say she has two dramatic actions before Tatters arrives - she can spend one or both on setting up defenses, examining the pillars, making conversation with Tatters' friend, etc.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Good to know- Would Raising the Earth's Bones work here?)  
>  ST: ((It...))  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((... uh, by the RAW text technically no, but in Inksgame yes, it does.))  
>  Inks: (By rwa text do you mean the book of 3 circles?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, I think by RAW it doesn't work on "magical" ground, which the Underworld arguably qualifies as? But as far as this game is concerned, it's functional in the Underworld as long as you're not too close to an Underworld manse or demesne. It won't work in the Labyrinth, but that's basically one giant nightmarish N/A Neverborn demesne. Or, arguably, the Pole of Death.))  
>  Inks: (Cool, thanks for the clarification.)  
>  Inks: (Today is sorcery day it seems)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Cracking her neck while Maji gives a fitful, bellicose rumble, Inks nodded to herself. "Okay- archeology later." She cast about for the likely avenues of approach- the realm of the dead being what they were, she wasn't one hundred percent sure where Tatters was going to come from- so she'd have to just hedge her bets.

With no living creatures around save herself and Maji, Inks had the luxury of just pacing out the walls and foundations, sketching with her feet and spires of Essence a sort of abbreviated fortress- little more than a wedge-shaped funnel that let someone duck into the sides while forcing any hostiles towards the river. 

That done, she recited mantra of Heaven-Meets-Earth backwards, having rehearsed the phrases several times before. She had to go without the ritual preparations, trusting the strength of her casting alone to sustain the trap- but now any ghost or worse save Tatter's friend, to act within the space of her Spiritual Discretion (overlapping the fortress footprint as best she could), would be in for a rude surprise.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So I've cast Earth's Bones with the intention of basically creating a chokepoint that Tatters can run through and Inks/co can run into the 'sides of', Think like a bowtie shape, basically.)  
>  ST: ((Oooo, nice. And warded it?))  
>  Inks: (On top of that, I have cast Incantation of Spiritual Discretion, using the long tick casting, which will last [Willpower] hours)  
>  ST: ((Niiiiiice.))  
>  Inks: (Specifically using the Bastion Against the Divine Might entry, which I think only boosts the Cost to 15m+1wp)  
>  ST: ((Okay, just roll me Int+War for your fortification-fu; successes will contest any attacking roll.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8 +4; [2, 4, 8, 5, 5, 2, 2, 6] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (glad I excellencied!)  
>  ST: ((Nice.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, second action?))  
>  Inks: (Resting to recoup my motes. I've spent over the whole session about 35 total.)  
>  ST: ((Flaring again?))  
>  Inks: (yeah, somewhere off to the side at the 2m level as to not disrupt overmuch.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. How many scenes of strenuous activity does that put you up to? Also lol, amusingly she can just point her caste mark straight out into the river. It's not like she can burn it _more_. ))  
>  Inks: (I forgot it was directional- counting last session's flare, that'd be 10 hours total, but I had [travel time] to recover.)  
>  Inks: (3 hours rest/1 hour sleep negates 1 point of penalty, so that's contingent on how much time Inks had to rest between leaving the black sands and getting to Burnt Anam)  
>  Inks: (If I _really_ wanted to, I could use Instant Expert to develop a +3 Resistance Style to extend my endurance)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I'll say that she's not taking fatigue penalties, but she's hovering at the limit of it.))  
>  Inks: (Legit, thanks)  
>  Inks: (So Inks is more or less topped off, and now we're just waiting- already sent the message to Tatters.)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  ST: ((Quickly stunt her sitting on the shore of the awful horror-river and waiting, then. Her sunlight seems to create a trough in the River where the pyreflame is boiled away, but there's so _much_ of the stuff that it's a, uh, concerningly shallow trough.))  
> 

Deciding to experiment with the effect of her soul's mark on the world, she faced the river while Tatter's friend kept watch- and she marveled at how the light of the sun seemed to scour not only the air, but the cold and black flame of the river itself. Scoured, scrubbed- erased from the world's memory.

It was a disconcertingly small effect, though. This River was dangerous. She might be safe from it if she flared her soul to its absolute fullest, Inks reckoned... but to do that would knock her out as soon as it began to gutter. She could feel the soul-weariness upon her as she strained her inner sunlight; tiring even as the empty places inside herself filled up with warmth and golden rays. 

She'd refreshed - and tired - herself thusly, and was wandering back towards the Pillar to get another look at the nigglingly familiar material when she heard them. The screams. They came from the downstream side of the domain; the opposite side to where she'd had Scail wait with his ship, and the faint sounds were a mixture of fear and of horror. Fear, from the inhabitants of this domain as they roused themselves to fight. Horror, from what was attacking them. 

"Oh shii-" Inks breathed into her helmet, and Maji padded up alongside her. "Get into position!" She had already told the masked ghosts where to stand and wait, just inside a recess that would make it hard for a horde or big monster to pursue her into the structure- Inks for her part 

She stood in the middle of the wedge gap, scanning the horizon and keeping her ear out for Tatters- wherever she may be.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Per+Awa for how far she sees her coming from / how much prep time she has.))  
>  ST: ((Maji is a +1))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [8, 3, 2, 4, 7, 8, 6, 2, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
> 

The glare off the river hurts her eyes, and by the time she sees Tatters approaching, she's perhaps half a mile away, running in those huge, unnatural, spider-like leaps she showed at Iblan Ayla's villa. Hot on her heels behind her are the monsters.

They were human, once. Now they're nothing of the sort. Their flesh has been made a temple to blasphemous things that should never have been born. Glyphs and sigils are cut and carved into pale flesh, and limbs end in horrible instruments of pain and ruin. Their shapes are no longer anything close to humanoid. There are pallid squirming things like branching worms or centipedes with too many legs and too many eyes. There are awful things that mock the forms of machines but are made of bones and black metal and worse things besides. There are mounds of animate sludge; tarry and corrosive and dripping with defilement and spiritual pollution, save for perfect faces of unsurpassed beauty which make them all the more horrible by contrast. 

There are enemies that Inks has met who could be disarmed with clever words and sparkling wit. There have been threats she's turned to allies with reason and appeals to their better natures or baser instincts. She's made lovers of rivals, friends of foes and teachers of tyrants, all by reaching out with an open hand before lashing out with a sword. 

Not here. She knows that in her gut. These things can't be bargained with or reasoned with. They want nothing, crave nothing, save to spill their pollution and rot over everything for whatever abhorrent things reside down in the deep from whence they came. 

They're coming. Tatters will get here first, easily, but then they'll only have a couple of minutes before the spectres catch up. And Inks can't move as fast as Tatters is now. If they flee as soon as Tatters gets to her, they might make Scail's ship before the gap closes.

Might.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So about how many gribblies are there?)  
>  ST: ((30-40 - a Mag 3 unit. Inks can hear many, many more in the distance, fighting against the inhabitants of Burnt Anam and the Dead Cahzorite fort on the downriver entrance to the domain.))  
>  Inks: (So what I'm hearing is that this is just a single finger of a much larger invasion, so to speak)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (How far ahead of the pack is Tatters?)  
>  Inks: (in yards, preferably)  
>  Inks: (or meters)  
>  ST: (More than enough for what I can tell you're planning to do.))  
>  ST: ((Sorry for delay; was just fixing myself food))  
> 

Good- the distances were right.

There was a certain absurdity to it. Of drawing Chronicle from thin air, letting the weapon fall into her waiting hands. She held her arms out, rock steady despite the weight and bulk- the blade itself just about as long as she was tall from broad tip to the back of the pommel. The front of the blade itself was a profound curve, nearly as wide as her hips and almost like an axe head more than anything resembling a sword. 

More gold than gold, sunlight harnessed in solid form some say- the weapon seemed to cook the air around it much like her own soul, though far less so. She sighted along the vast plane of the blade, aiming just past Tatters and her bounding, skittering leaps. Essence whorled around her limbs, sorceorus sunlight curling into tongues of golden flame that danced along Chronicle's working edges.

She sighted in on the biggest, meanest, most slatheringly vile horror at the front of the pack- some scythe-bladed monster with seven arms and a weeping oily hole in it's chest for a heart. Rearing back, Inks braced Chronicle in her hand not like any sane swordswoman, but more like a spear or javelin.

"Lemme give you a kiss, sweetheart." 

In one broad _thrust_ , putting her whole body into the throw and the cast, Inks pitched forward, one leg lifted off the ground as she wished her weapon to take Flight!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Flight of the Brilliant Raptor!)  
>  ST: ((Per+Occult, Accuracy 4))  
>  Inks: (Since I have more than enough time, the shape and cast actions while 'Happened' can be abstracted~)  
>  Inks: (stunt?)  
>  ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: !ex 15; [2, 3, 10, 2, 4, 5, 3, 6, 2, 8, 8, 10, 4, 6, 2] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  Inks: (Unblockable, Dodgable at -4 external penalty + other modifiers)  
>  Inks: (granted we sort of skipped step resolution, but no worries)  
>  ST: ((... okay, uh, impressively, the scythe-monster actually has a Parry DV of 7, so...))  
>  Inks: (uh... unblockable?(  
>  ST: ((bear with me))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, baring!)  
> 

Shockingly, the monster actually manages to parry the blindingly-fast projectile that streaked towards it; bringing its bladed limbs up with preternatural quickness to deflect it. Had it been an arrow that Inks had fired, it would have worked.  
Inks had not thrown an arrow.

The tightly-bound ball of sun-essence detonated point blank in the howling spectre's face, with nothing but gore-soaked crossed blades between it and the explosion.  
  


>   
>  ST: (("If successfully blocked, it still hits with 0 attack successes and half the base damage"))  
>  Inks: (Yes, I was figuring as much)  
>  ST: ((So, (Willpower+Essence)/2, roll damage.))  
>  Inks: (No soak?)  
>  ST: ((Oh right. Yes, 6L soak. You've got Overwhelming 3, though.))  
>  Inks: (It'll be 3 damage dice then, or ESs 4 ping? We've not really decided if Minimum Damage is a rule?)  
>  Inks: !ex 3 "For starters, I can always roll an extra die"; [3, 8, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  Inks: (One damage success!)  
>  Inks: (And then it EXPLODES)  
>  ST: ((We'll go with that, yeah. Though you deal an extra 2 wound penalties and knock it down first.))  
>  ST: ((And then, yes, it explodes.))  
>  Inks: !ex 1; [10] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((I know you're bursting to describe the giant explosion, so go ahead.))  
> 

The Sorcerously empowered blade flashed out, taking litereal wing as a great bird of fire seemed to manifest around the swirling energies. It hit beak and claw first, with Chronicle itself following only a heartbeat behind- shearing through one limb in the process and slamming into an iron ribcage with a deafening clang.

And then with the cry of the Garda, the unnight sky of Burnt Anam was lit by fire. The explosion lashed out in all directions, bowling over mass horror and chitinous limb. Sending them tumbling, breaking, folding over themselves even as they burned in supernatural heat. 

The force was so great that it smeared itself into a teardrop of flame, and a heartbeat later, Chronicle slammed back into Inks's waiting grip.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So, the unit subtracts their natural lethal soak from the EXPLOSION. Is that 6 or less?)  
>  ST: ((4, for most of them))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; [9, 8, 4, 3, 5, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: (2 damage successes for THis Action, but as long as they stay in the _40 yard_ circle of impact, they take those 6 dice every action- also they roll to resist it as per trauma rules at Diff 4)  
>  Inks: (So I kinda got the order backwards, they roll sta+resist to see if they downgrade the damage from Lethal to Bashing, etc)  
>  ST: !ex 6; [9, 2, 2, 9, 8, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (Also the spell always causes a route check, counts as a flame weapon and Essence Weapon when determining unit morale penalties)  
>  ST: ((Also it's an 80 yard circle.))  
>  ST: ((40 yards radius, not diameter))  
>  Inks: (yeeeeessss)  
>  ST: !ex 5; [7, 4, 1, 2, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  ST: ((... Inks comes surprisingly close to getting a mob of _insane Neverborn-worshipping spectres_ to rout. Doesn't quite succeed, but close nonetheless.))  
> 

It's not easy- but Inks could _carry_ Chronicle in one hand, with her other she waved to Tatters on the approach. "Hurry! Hurry! That's not going to delay them for long!"

Tatters reached them as the fires burnt; spreading to everything nearby - the sand, the bone-like trees that were all that survived this close to the pyreflame river, the indistinct shapes of the spectres themselves. Inks got a glimpse of... something, on her face, something as impossible black-beyond-black as the glyphs and chasms of the deep Underworld - before she bent over, panting and winded. Her khakkhara was gone, her robes torn, her veil missing. Through the rents in her clothes, her skin was bloodied - though surprisingly unburnt for someone who'd been swept into the Desert River and been carried who-knows-how-far downstream. 

There was a brief pause as she gasped for breath, as though the world might favour them. 

Then, screaming, the line of the spectres broke through the wall of fire. Singed, wounded, still-burning... nevertheless, they charged with sick, fantatic fervour.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Daaang.)  
>  Inks: (So the gang's all together, we have the warded fortress if we want to get into a fight, we can also just try to flee. I have one, maybe two more tricks up my sleeve)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

Banishing Chronicle back to the space between spaces, Inks gathered Tatters up in her armored arms and laid her across Maji's broad shoulders. "Alright big boy, we're not going to be fast, but we're sure as hell going to get out of here."

Part of her regretted leaving the fortress after having prepared it so, but at the same time discretion was the better part of valor, and Piercing Sun would have _done things_ to her ghost if she died to some blinkered egotistical stupidity. 

Even so- she was confident- her spell had jammed the tide, buying Tatters and by extension themselves those vital half minutes needed to widen the gap into the market city.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Retreating, Inks is bringing up the rear while keeping her head on a swivel.)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so this is going to be an opposed Dex+Athletics roll to LEG IT. There are three intervals, and Inks & co need a 5-success lead by the end to get to the ship and away freely. They begin with 3 automatic successes from their head-start. If the spectres exceed their total, they catch up - if they're behind by less than five at the end, they don't catch up but can still do something risky and unwise like trying to leap from the shore to the ship as it casts off and gets distance from the pier.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)  
>  ST: ((Which has a high chance of not ending well for the spectre, but they're nuts.))  
>  ST: ((So, first interval; "getting clear of the fort and the pyreflame river". Dex+Athletics.))  
> 

The pyreflame shores were marked by coarse sands and jagged rocks that felt more like volcanic sharpness than smoothed river stones- but Inks ignored them under her boots and listened instead to Maji's deft and inexorable bronze pawpads as he crushed all obstacles. Tatter's ghost friend fretted over the other woman as much as a ghost could fret-  
And that left Inks to watch the approaching horde from over her shoulder- diverting around the fort and shying away from both her wards and the river itself.

>   
>  Inks: (Stunted interval 1)  
>  ST: ((2 dice.))  
>  Inks: (Gonna spend a WP for a bit extra padding, because oh hey Inks's Dex+Ath is ... 3. So 5d +4 autosux- Actually no, I'm going to do one better, lemme stunt something else real quick)  
> 

But the route itself wasn't enough- falling into the same bounding rhythm of her great tiger's own steady pouncing leaps, Inks _learned._ She gleaned insight from the most humble of sources, and in that instant became expert!

>   
>  Inks: (Instant Expert Intuition, using Maji to synthesize an Athletics style of 'Catlike bounding motion!')  
>  ST: ((... okay, that gets you a 3-die for sheer audacity.))  
>  Inks: (So does the +3 apply to the athletics roll or the roll to synthesize a style? As per the charm, as long as I have an exemplar, it autosucceeds sharigan style)  
>  ST: ((No, that's your Athletics stunt))  
>  ST: ((You just did an awesome.))  
>  ST: ((And yeah, autosucceed.))  
>  Inks: (Thanks, So Dex 2, Ath 1, +3 Style (no masteries), +3 stunt. +1wp +3 circumstance autosux, and since I have motes to spare (bout half full), I'll throw 3 more excellency dice on)  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +4 "for reals."; [6, 1, 6, 4, 8, 3, 3, 8, 1, 6, 10, 2] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Nice. The spectres are taking a -3 internal penalty due to BEING ON FIRE, and are splitting into two groups; the Mag 3 main body of spectres and the three or four more potent leaders.))  
>  ST: !ex 4 "main group"; [6, 8, 5, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: !ex 8 "leaders of the pack"; [7, 6, 8, 1, 2, 2, 8, 10] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

The howls behind them lessened as they ran; tearing over the sharp stones and away from the river. Inks heard one or two screams as the spectres hit the fort and the pyreflame claimed victims - those shoved off the edges by her well-planned architecture. But they didn't stop.

They were falling behind though - or most of them were. There were three or four; that scythe-monstrosity among them, who were obviously of a more potent breed than the rest. They were pulling ahead of the rest of the pack - and while they weren't gaining on Inks' little group, they weren't losing any ground either.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Second phase - reaching the edge of the town.))  
>  Inks: (You might love me or hate me for this idea I just had)  
>  ST: ((Do tell. :P))  
>  Inks: (I feel safe in assuming I can stunt in terrain details that make sense right? So long as they don't overly contradict)  
>  Inks: (The pyreflame river so far has been described as a river- a flat traditional one because it's the memory of the Anam River itself turned to weaponized geomancy. Not a 'metaphorical' river-tunnel like the others)  
>  Inks: (But the inhabitants fear it, and they don't want to go Near it... but they still have to deal with it.)  
>  ST: ((Yeah.))  
>  ST: ((Well, it runs down into a gorge towards the downriver end of the domain))  
>  ST: ((but apart from that, yeah))  
>  ST: ((What's your play?))  
>  Inks: (writing the stunt, but tl;dr, I bet they have cable cars or at least ropes stretched hiiiigh across the river to move cargo without needing to use ships.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. I'll allow it, sure.))  
>  Inks: (Okay for OOC's sake we have an off-log conversation I'll weave in somehow)  
> 

One bounding stride after the other, and Inks could feel her heart jackhammering in her chest. She cast her eyes left, right- looking for anything that could aide them in their rush onward! Nothing so pedestrian as a cart of produce or heirloom instrument- no. She spied a sign on the wall over a mound of dirt, painted with the lurid greens and blacks of Pyreflame.

Calling Chronicle to her hand, she lashed out and swiped away the dirt over the mound, casting forth a dozen icy embers in an arc behind her, right in the path of her pursuers!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (A different kind of stunt! I keep forgetting we're not 'at urban' yet, but maybe it's some outbuilding- but pyreflame hazard improvization1)  
>  ST: ((Nice. +2 stunt, then.))  
>  Inks: !ex 8 +1 "+1 autosux from excellency, here's hoping); [10, 7, 8, 3, 5, 9, 2, 6] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Impressive.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm, formatting goof, that should be 5 sux, )  
>  Inks: (Still impressive!)  
>  ST: ((The nephwracks in the lead take a -1 internal penalty from the hazard, and another from flurrying hasty forward rolls to stop being on fire and put themselves out.))  
>  ST: !ex 6 "main pack"; [1, 9, 5, 2, 1, 2] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  ST: !ex 9 "nephwrack leaders"; [6, 5, 9, 1, 6, 3, 6, 6, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((Nice one Inks. So we're now at Main Group (3), Nephwracks (7), Inks & co (13). She has her five-point lead now - all she needs to do is maintain it through the next phase to reach the ship.))  
> 

Perhaps it was the flurry of embers that slowed their shrieking pursuers down, or maybe the way they cast themselves into the dirt and rolled to extinguish the clinging flames. Either way, Inks was pulling ahead. The town was right here! But the monsters were hot on her heels - and she was leading them into an innocent settlement.

>   
>  ST: ((Inks has to roll Compassion to leave the town to deal with these things by themselves.))  
>  Inks: !ex 3; [6, 2, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  Inks: (Whelp!)  
>  ST: !ex 5; [9, 6, 6, 7, 6] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((lol))  
> 

As they entered the pier-side sprawl laden with tents and warehouses, and the sound of battle, Inks had an idea. To Maji and the masked spirit, Inks jerked her chin. "Head for the ship, I got an idea!"

As far as ideas went, it was one of her crazier ones, but she had at least one safety net if not two. Casting her eye high above, she noted the riggings and awnings stretching across the Plague river and the other more 'sedate' flows in and throughout the city- cargo movers. 

Either way- they were ropes and chains that stretched the span and anchored at the shores away from the cold consuming flames. But now she had to make sure the horrors were targeting her- and for that she needed just a bit of pain. Biting her lip until the blood welled in her mouth, she flipped up her visor and spit into her hand. "Hey ladies and gentlemen!" She whistled with bloodied lips. 

It had the desired effect, and as one the horrors _swerved_ towards her, crashing into market stall and cargo alike. Bounding with weighty catlike strides, Inks hiked up on one of the cargo towers, and despite the chains and rigging being no wider than her hand, she dashed along them midriver, blood dripping from one hand!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Leadin' the ghosties AWAY from civilians and my friends with BLOOD AND GENIUS. Truly this plan has no downsides!)  
>  Inks: (I'm _assuming_ Inks is just moving in a Scail-ward direction but at an angle away, so if she kept going straight she'd miss him, but the goal is to get the nephrwacks up and eager for BLOOD so they don't think about where they're going  
>  ST: ((Cha+Pres+3 stunt+3 bonus for the blood, vs MDV 11. The spectres will follow the blood blindly. The nephwracks might not be so easily fooled.))  
>  Inks: !ex 20 "erewego.jpg"; [2, 6, 5, 3, 4, 6, 1, 5, 6, 4, 10, 4, 10, 9, 3, 10, 3, 6, 4, 6] was rolled for 7 successes.  
>  Inks: (Damn)  
> 

In a howling mob, the spectres lagging behind her change their course. They want her blood. They want her life. They want to rip into her and sully and defile and rend her down to gorestained chunks, floating down the diseased river into the Labyrinth. They charge at her mindlessly; convinced that she's wounded, that she's on her last legs. That they'll have her as soon as they can catch up.

The nephwracks - the many-armed scythe-limbed creature, the polluted sludge-monster with the face of beauty and the brachial thing of branching centipedal segments and legs and eyes and fangs with no clear torso - they glance her way. They take in the ruse. 

And then they keep pursuing Tatters. They're not mindless. They're mad, but their madness has terrifying clarity. And they hate her for some reason. Hate her even more than they want Inks. 

But Tatters can fight, and she has Maji and her ghost-friend with her, against three. The strongest three, yes, but still only three - while Inks finds herself with the job of distracting thirty. 

This plan, she thinks, had better work.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Interesting complication!)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so you have enough of a lead on the main group of spectres that you can autosucceed at reaching your goal at the cargo towers before them. Stunt your means of drawing them in and disposing of them.))  
>  Inks: (Hmmm.... Are there any civilians around the left side tower? Like if Tatters is on the right side of the river, Inks was heading left across the cables. )  
>  Inks: (ah, nevermind, my idea requires Long Ticks)  
>  Inks: (So Inks is basically in the middle of the plague river- over it, the howling mob are crawling over the cables and ropes... Yeah I got this)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool))  
> 

With the slavering hordes split up, leaving her friends to deal with the least of the worst, Inks turned smartly on one foot. The tangle of cargo hauling lines were growing thicker as they went upriver, towards the denser parts of the port city. Crates dangled from them, abandoned mid-shipment as the horrors had invaded.

Heedless of the way the cables were swaying as the massed lesser and greater dead piled on the cargo towers, Inks leaped from one line, then another- spitting more blood into her palm to keep them hot and bothered for her. Taking her leaps at angle to angle, she led them all on a merry chase- noting that they themselves had their own unnatural poise that defied their weight and mania. 

All told it let them boil along over the cargo rigging like a nest of jungle army ants between tree branches. Inks made one final hop from the line to the cargo tower, not far behind Maji and Tatters or the nephwraks. It was this one tower, a wide and squat thing of cut stone lashed in chains and eyelets, that a dozen or more cables connected to. Turning in one swift move as the howling mob searched for her blood, Inks lashed out with Chronicle and cut the cables!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So Move/Jump/Athing to the 'Right Side' SO basically a ( shaped path I guess, forcing the mob to move slowly while Inks moves faster), and at the end, CUTTING THE ROPES so the mob falls in the Plague River!)  
>  ST: ((Dex+Melee at Diff 1 to make the cuts with your ludicrously oversized monster sword, and Dex+Athletics at Diff 2 to get back off safely and not go down with them; +3 external penalty negated by your active GCS))  
>  Inks: !ex 8; [5, 3, 3, 2, 6, 8, 7, 1] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 6 "dex+ath"; [8, 4, 7, 3, 5, 10] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> 

Jump and cut, jump and cut - Inks' eye for mechanisms told her where to aim and swing, her unparalleled balance kept her safe from the sickening River below, and her headstart kept her ahead of the monstrous forms clamouring for her blood. Some of them fell before she was even finished, others replacing them immediately as she ducked and leapt and chopped. Finally she was cornered on the last tower, with no way out and nowhere to jump to...

And Chronicle bit deep into the memory of stone, plunging the nightmarish horrors down, down, down into the churning waters below! 

The screams were horrible. Soaked with the pollution and filth of the Labyrinth these Spectres may be, but they were still ghosts, and the River showed them no mercy. Glyph-decorated skin broke out in layer upon layer of boils and sores and pustules as the rotting blood washed over it. Eyes melted. Limbs withered. Tongues dissolved, making even their shrieks and screamed into stifled, gurgling things. 

But Inks wasn't watching the scene below. Because from up here on the tower, she had a view of the town. Of the pier. 

She could see Tatters and the others fighting.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, you're a fair distance away, so, heh. Roll me Per+Awa at Diff 3 to see how much detail of the fight Inks catches.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; [10, 8, 7, 2, 10, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 1 "forgot a die"; [4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

Even without her weapon, even injured, Tatters was a fierce combatant- an expert exorcist who channeled her great passion into what she did. Granted it was maybe not the healthiest of passions, but the results spoke for themselves. She hurried down to reach them, bounding across awning and flagpole despite how they swayed dangerously. "Must go faster, must go faster... "

The figures were small in the distance, but Inks' eyes were sharp. And so she saw Tatters burn with the blacker-than-black shadow and pyreflame-phosphorescence that marked her sorcery again, saw her cast out a hand to the oxen-sized mass of polluted sludge and caustic ooze that wore a beautiful woman's face and - even without her staff - lash it with banishing force that sent it hurtling away down the River to whatever dark place it had come from. 

She saw Maji leap on the brachial centipede-worm of fangs and eyes, ripping chunk after chunk off its branching, torso-less body, only for its pieces to keep moving, keep writhing and closing in on her beloved companion to strangle him. 

She saw Tatters' friend _unfold_ , the mask dropping away, the robe falling back, to reveal something of horrible bulk, overflowing with shadows, which moved to help the bronze-skinned tiger. Fear blanketed the port like a suffocating vice as it emerged. The blood chilled. The air turned thick enough that ghosts nearby began to drown on dry land, screaming as their nightmares ate at their minds. Even this far away, Inks felt the edge of it, felt the desire to turn and run, felt nightmares of her mother's knife clawing at the back of her brain.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Valour roll, only 1 sux needed due to distance.))  
>  Inks: !ex 2; [4, 6] was rolled for 0 successes.  
> 

And as the scythe-armed creature with the black and oily hole where its heart should be reared up to face Tatters; its subordinates banished or being torn apart, Inks saw.  
She saw the town brighten, as shadows were sucked away.

She saw the dark robes and veil fall, baring Tatters face to the world - and the solid circle of void-darkness on her forehead. 

And she saw the black pyre that erupted from her skin and howled at the air. Wraith-like bones orbited her, burning with pyreflame - not the ghostly shadow of it in her spells, but the real thing, crawling along the bones and consuming them even as new ones formed from the shadows and shaped glyphs that spoke of dark prophecies and things that should not be known. Impossible patches of that awful deeper darkness opened around them, sucking in the shadows to feed something mercifully hidden. 

Tatters stood tall, her anima at its height, cloaked in the awful glory of her soul, and faced the nephwrack. For a heartbeat, it hesitated. 

And then, snarling a vile oath of vengeance, it dropped into the shadows, and was gone. 

Holding Chronicle at her side in both hands, Inks picked her way through the markets, dispatching errant ghouls where they scuttled, until finally she approached the yawning horror that was Tatters. Maji's hackles were all abristle, pupils narrowed to pinpricks out of mortal terror that only his wargod lineage defied. 

Pursing her lip to staunch the flow of blood, Inks raised a bloody hand. "A- Ah... Heya." 

The sucking void at the heart of an abyssal darkness... flinches. The horror that drowns men with terror beyond mortal sanity has already squirmed its elephantine bulk back into the flitting robes it wears to masquerade as a woman, replacing its mask and gloves. Maji - despite his valour - trembled, drawing close to Inks for once not out of protectiveness, but in search of comfort.  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 5; [4, 7, 9, 5, 1] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

Resolute, ironclad will made up for failing courage, and Inks nodded. "Thank you, for stepping up there. I'm glad you're both alright." She nodded to Tatter's ghost friend. "...I really want to know your name now."

"Sh-she calls herself Lady Noone," Tatters mutters, picking up her robes again with shaking hands and cringing away from Inks' eyes, trying to avoid looking at her own flaring anima. She's curled in on herself, shame and disgust and self-loathing written across every inch of body language in a way so obvious that she might as well be screaming it in comparison to her usual reserve. The echo-memory of black arrows through her chest jut out horribly, the matte black surfaces familiar by now. Labyrinth metal. Void-stuff. An echo of something, intimately tied to her powers. 

"Lady Noone." Inks smiled. "Nice to properly meet you." 

The ghost flutters a brief, polite courtesy.

She seems apologetic for terrorising Maji and Inks, even if it was out of necessity. 

Turning to Tatters, Inks quashed the immediate galant urge to just pick her up and carry her to Scail's ship- instead she spoke with soft, warm tones. "Do you need any help moving? We're not far from the ship, and then we can get out of here." 

"I..." Tatters sniffs. "I should wait. For my... for this to die down. It hurts people." 

'I hurt people', goes unsaid.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (You're leaning hard on Tatters being a foil to Inks)  
>  ST: ((I'll ask you to expand on that in the postmortem. :3))  
> 

It was _hard_ being compassionate when she couldn't reach out and touch someone. Still, Inks had to try- and they were content enough to move at a cautious shuffle even as the battle seemed to ebb and flow around them. "You know- even if you don't believe this, I think intent matters a lot."

"It's frustrating, it's tragic. All these great powers you have seem to hurt the people around you. It's easy to think that all you do is hurt. I disagree." 

"You are considerate, compassionate to a fault, with a sense of justice that humbles me." Inks glanced at Tatters, sidelong but with a fond quirk of her lips. "Being what you are has consequences. Taking actions have consequences. Getting out of bed has consequences. Neither of us are perfect people, but both of us try to do the best we can."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Cha+Pres stunt to reassure Tatters)  
>  ST: ((Roll it. 2-die stunt.))  
>  Inks: !ex 16; [1, 3, 8, 7, 5, 5, 4, 8, 5, 4, 8, 1, 9, 3, 9, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

Tatters absorbed the words. Inks couldn't tell if they did any good. She curled around herself as the black pyre yawned and the wraithbones spelt out nightmare-prophecies in burning glyphs that were all too readable, despite being from tongues long dead and others that had never lived at all.

Eventually it dwindled to a featureless black, which reached out with hands to snatch at anything nearby, and then further still, to that darker-than-dark circle of shadow on her brow. She cloaked herself again, in the rent and bloodied tatters that lived up to her name, and while she didn't stand straight, she at least stood. 

"I think you've learned enough," she murmured. "Please. Let's go home."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Ends of session, yes.))  
>  Inks: (That was really fun! Good Action session)  
>  ST: ((5xp +2mxp +3Sxp))  
>  ST: ((End of the Underworld miniarc))  
>  ST: ((MOAR TATTERS KNOWLEDGE GOT))  
>  Inks: (indeed)  
>  Inks: (You liked mah stuntan?)  
>  ST: I did. : 3  
>  ST: And I look forward to your reactions.  
> 


	60. Session 60: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 3

Tatters was quiet on the way back up, and disappeared almost as soon as they were safely back in Creation. It was two days before she re-emerged; slinking in hollow-eyed and exhausted through the window of the warded room at the manor Inks had set up for her.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Juuuust roll me Int+Medicine for being an obnoxiously brilliant genius. Diff 4.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +2 "4m on 2nd med"; [6, 10, 9, 7, 6, 3, 4, 6, 9, 5] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
> 

Inks, who was not an idiot, was waiting for her. It hadn't been hard. She'd seen how tired Tatters was after flaring her soul and fleeing from the nephwracks. Add that to the - accurate - guess that Tatters probably wouldn't sleep until she absolutely had to, divide by the way the exorcist was much, much more resilient than Inks herself, and multiply with the way she'd been relying on the wards to sleep safely and without dreams...

... yeah, Inks had only had to wait a couple of hours. And one of those had been setting up early just in case she'd underestimated how much running Tatters had done.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks is obnoxiously brilliant and calculated how long it would take for Tatters to be forced to come home and sleep in her head.))  
>  Inks: (hahaha, nice.)  
>  ST: ((A bad hunter chases. A good hunter waits. :V))  
>  Inks: (Sometimes the chase is fun though!)  
> 

"Heya." It was more than telling when Inks spoke, Tatters did in fact literally jump to the ceiling, latching onto the rafters with a vaugely spider-like posture. "... Right. Off to a bad start."

The exhaustion won out a few heartbeats later, and while Inks _normally_ would have made some artful, compassionate gesture of catching the woman as she fell and helping her into bed, Tatter's aversion to touch was legendary. Instead, Inks shoved the bed itself around, hooking one of it's legs with her feet and sliding it beneath the woman as she dropped. Tatters landed with a plush bounce, and looked up at Inks with a wild-eyed, befuddled stare.

"How..." she mumbled. "I snuck in?"

Inks opened her mouth to explain, but stopped, thinking better of it. Instead she sat down in a nearby chair- Tatters hadn't bothered to really customize the space, so it was one of Inks's more utilitarian experiments at furnishing.

"Uh... let's just say that I knew where you were going to go and waited." She focused her Essence into her hands and called forth a few dozen wafer cakes of sorcerously nutritious food. The morsels spilled out from between her palms into a waiting bowl, along with a pitcher of water.

When she was done, she snagged one of the cakes and started nibblng. "They'll keep for quite a while, if you aren't hungry right now. I do recommend you eat something soon though."

"I.." Inks finished the last couple of bites and kissed the crumbs off her fingers. "I wanted to see how you were doing. Ask a couple questions..."

Tatters stares up at her for a bit longer, then slowly reaches out to snag a wafer and nibble at it. It's a good thing Inks prompted her to. She probably wouldn't have remembered or thought to, otherwise.

"I can... go," she mumbles, eyes lowered. "If... you don't need to..." She swallows, forcing the gentle morsel down a dry throat. "I can go," she repeats.

"No way!" Inks offered the other woman a small, earnest grin. Then she sobered. "This... Whatever it is has been weighing on you for I'm guessing _years_." She poured some water into a simple clay cup and held it out to Tatters. "You... don't have to tell the whole story- you don't have to tell me anything really. But the more I know, the more _specific things_ I can do to help."

"If just... making a safe space for you to rest is what you want, then that's it. But you know I can do more. I _love_ doing more. More profit, more skill, more compassion." Her nose wrinkled and she shook her head. "There I go, thinking about me me me and how I would do things... What do you _you_ want?"

Tatters closed her eyes. For a moment Inks thought that was it; that she'd fallen asleep - but then she opened them again; a long, slow blink. "You were chosen by the sun," she said; each word picked out carefully through the fog of exhaustion to avoid slurring or swaying. "What... what was that like?"

"Uhm... My mother slashed me from collarbone to navel with an enchanted knife. It inflicted wicked frostbite." Inks's voice had taken on a dull, academic quality. "I sort of stumbled around my house looking for a way to stitch myself up when everything was suddenly _warm_ and I knew exactly what to do and how to do it, with what I had onhand.

Her gown of the moment had a plunging neckline, so Tatters could see for herself that there wasn't even a hint of a scar across her skin or tattoo. "After that I just felt... _better_ about everything? Eager. Like the world was full of challenges just waiting to be tackled. I... for the first time in my life, I didn't feel _bored or frustrated_."

Tatters smiled wanly. "That sounds nice." She closed her eyes for another long moment, and when she speaks again, they stay closed.

"I wasn't chosen," she mumbles. "I didn't stitch myself up. I died. Run through from behind by giant arrows. I bled out in the mud, and I wanted to live, and I begged... but nobody came. And then I died, and I heard the voice, and it offered me... it offered me another chance. And I took it, even though the price was killing other people. And I ran away but I'm still this, I died and I came back and the dead shouldn't bother the living  
but I can't die again or they'll pick someone else and I took their pact when I should've said no and... and..."

She was slurring heavily, running off on tangents and losing the thread of her thoughts. Maybe she'd waited longer to come back than she should have - or maybe she was more tired than Inks had thought. But it was enough to get the gist across. Something a bit like Inks' own Second Breath - but rather than sunlight and warmth, it had been death and despair.

And now Tatters' own nature was turned against herself. Inks had noticed, back when she'd first tracked Tatters down, that the other woman was very superstitious - or maybe 'self-constraining' would be a better description; all her little rules and preconceptions that she didn't like breaking. If one of them was that the dead shouldn't bother the living and she defined herself as dead... well, no wonder she was this fucked up. Put that on top of her guilt for accepting whatever dark empowerment she'd been offered - at whatever cost had come with it - and it was a miracle she was as functional as she was. The only thing keeping her going was the certainty that whatever had empowered her would choose someone else if she died - and they might be far less principled.

With the most gentle of moves, Inks stood and made to ready the room- curtains at the window of heavy cloth to block out the sun, taking the lid off a bowl of fragrant, theraputic aromatic oils. Tatters watched her bustle around with sluggish, drowsy eyes, and skittered away atop the bed when Inks neared.

The Twilight only made a fussy gesture to fluff the pillows, mindful of Tatter's personal space, before pulling the table with the golden cakes and water to the bedside. "You can be strong tomorrow." She offered.  
"Tonight... Tonight you can rest. And I don't want you to leave." She shot a meaningful look at the window. "But if you do, I'll have this place or one like it waiting for you. If you're strong tomorrow... then I want to help add to that strength."

Rising, she moved to the door and carefully turned the glowstones in their scones, drawing the light in the chamber down further and further. "Until then... sleep well."

Tatters makes a mumbling sound that could be agreement, and shifts into a less uncomfortable position on the bed. She's asleep before Inks is halfway out of the room, and if nothing else; in here her dreams will be peaceful.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So now some Strategic Actions and Montage?)  
>  ST: ((Indeed. So. We are in... what season are we in... Air?))  
>  Inks: (Yep, beginning of Ascending Air!)  
>  Inks: (So in the 'first' Minor Action, I'll have learned: Exorcism Style, Horion-Drafting Technique, Socialize 5, Understanding The Court, Demon of the 2nd Circle and Summon Elemental)  
>  Inks: (The major action of this season is the diplomatic mission to Coxati, whch as I understand is more like the 'travel time' than the actual talking, since Inks is doing it in person?)  
>  Inks: (Then, using HDT, Inks is going to do a prep-action for training Exorcists, and craft a demon icon for Vicero, the Wasteland Khan)  
>  ST: ((Right, cool. Okay, so Inks will be setting off and training along the way - Minor actions and Major actions aren't necessarily 'one solid block of four weeks and then one solid block of eight'; they can be mixed together over the course of the whole season - so it's off to the lands of the Coxati! Stunt your 'calling ahead' to the relevant persons you want attending, since they'll have travel time too, as well as your entourage.))  
>  Inks: (got it, writans)  
> 

* * *

Things started to come together quickly after that. As much as she wanted to stay on-hand for Tatters, her attention was split between a great many things.

Pipera- naturally was invited to come along- though she and Inks both recognized that at some point they would need to find or train another 'custodian' for Inks's interests both private and affiliated with House Iblan. Fortunately all things considered, the matters were stable for now.

She wanted to keep the actual expedition small, focusing primarily on herself, Pipera, Vahti and her Deyha pack. Pipera assured her that she could with some degree of efficiency manage things in Gem remotely- and Inks could rush back far faster than they had last time.

That left the logistics of calling ahead to the Coxati Coalition- to Etiyadi and Xandia primarily. The thrust of her message to Xandia was to announce the diplomatic caravan and prepare for it's arrival- and to encourage her to invite any Coxati Lord Xandia herself wanted in attendance.

The message to Etiyadi was more flattering and personal, in keeping with their relationship, but still got the idea across that Inks was heading to the Coxati territories for business.

"What about Pangasutri White-Eyes?" Pipera asked, as they loaded up their baggage onto the caravan and Inks talked the yeddim that would take them across to the foothills into tolerating Maji's presence. "Are you going to invite him to the table?"

"Not directly." Inks admitted. "Part of the message I sent to Xandia was basically "Invite who you think can sit at the table. If that means she can keep him in check, he might be there."  
She pulled out a map of the region, noting the various border states near El Galabi.

"Etiyadi's the most directly affected by the campaign, but Pangastutri's next- assuming the borders haven't changed." She pointed out the demarcations as she spoke. "So that's the rough idea."||

Pipera nods, studying the map. "And we're meeting in the same demesne as last time?" she confirms. "When did you set the date for?"

"Considering everyone's slower than we are... around the end of Resplendent Air I think." She did some calculations in her head, humming thoughtfully.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So Inks' route is four hundred miles... which she can do in three weeks flat, goddamn.))  
>  Inks: (yeee)  
>  Inks: (And I can go a bit lighter on some supplies since Water From Stone and Aerial Table)  
>  ST: ((Xandia and Etiyadi only need go about a hundred miles each, on decent roads - for them it's honestly only a week or so's journey. Pangasutri and Moto, if they decide to come, will be travelling further - a hundred and fifty for Moto and twice that for Pangasutri. Pangasutri might take a month to five weeks to travel - and of course, they all have to take preparatory actions to set off.))  
>  ST: ((So yeah, amusingly, you eyeballed it pretty much right.))  
>  Inks: (hahaha! Nice)  
> 

Pipera was doing the same thing, and pursed her lips. "We'll get there some way in advance," she concluded. "Can I assume that you'll be using the opportunity to stay with the Saudari?"

"I'm _really, really tempted._ " Inks admitted. "Uhm... I've been kind of... erm." She made a vague, flighty gesture with both hands. "Underworld expedition, I learned a lot and..."

Well, she's not _saying so_ , but vigorous, athletic, energetic and wild, life-affirming sex had been on her mind. And she hadn't had a chance to pin Vahti down...

Pipera sighed, and rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Well then," she said. "Let's get going."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Travel montage?)  
>  ST: ((Strategic travel roll! Int+Survival, +1 bonus because you've followed this route before. Diff 3, declare charms.))  
>  Inks: (Trackless Region Navigation, - autopass any navigation check to find her way, 20 miles per day in good terrain, 10 in bad. If I am forced to roll, throwing in 2nd Survival for 6m, negating Difficulty.)  
>  ST: ((Aaaaand Difficulty reduced to 0.))  
>  ST: ((Wait, no, hmm.))  
>  ST: ((Diff 1, just because finding your way doesn't _necessarily_ mean getting through the pass intact. But c'mon, you know you wanna roll your pool at the dread difficult of _1_ ~))  
>  ST: ((Who knows if you will be able to pass such a dangerous and risky check? :P))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3 "I doooo~"; [4, 6, 3, 10, 3, 4, 1, 10, 5, 4] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((You may montage hilariously. :P))  
>  Inks: (can I meet some elemental courts?)  
>  Inks: (or would that be a per+occult action?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm.))  
>  Inks: (they don't need to be dialogue, but mostly just generating targets for future Minor/Major Actions)  
>  ST: ((Okay, roll me Per+Occult at Diff 5 to spot any elementals on the way in - I'll work them in if you do.))  
>  Inks: (going full bore, +4 autosux)  
>  Inks: !ex 9 +4; [4, 4, 9, 9, 1, 5, 4, 2, 10] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
> 

* * *

For such a self-proclaimed city-mouse, Iblan Inks adored wilderness travel. There was something empowering about striding out into wilds in a silk gown and strappy heels that spoke to her on some profound, personal level. Pipera of course thought it the height of hubris and said so at every opportunity.

That did not change the fact that it worked- and worked well. 

From the low flat rocky terrain of the pave into the squat round hills leading into the mountains, the small group moved on. Maji prowled around in more familiar climes, fetching mountain goat or young yeddim that he could easily stalk and pounce-crush. When the crew grew tired, Inks raised a fortress camp, summoned water, and called food from the air.

Nabijah for her part grumbled at how small she was thinking, just _robbing_ the soft weak girl way back when. Inks just gave her a jaunty wink.

From the hills into the higher mountains, the retraced a number of their steps, but now Inks knew the smarter paths, through narrow passes that would have humbled a caravan but not her. She was making excellent time...

Last time she had walked this route; Inks'd had other things on her mind - it had been her first ever long trip that she was leading, and she'd maybe been a little nervous about meeting the Coxati states. Now, more confident and more used to the trip, she had time to look around and keep her eyes peeled for unusual sights and oddities.

Her first success is in the desert. It was luck rather than skill that had it catch her eye in the first place - but it was Inks's sharp mind that made her take a second, closer look. Peering through Maji's keener eyes, her guess was confirmed - the shapes wheeling above the sandstorm blowing parallel to them some miles away weren't condors, which would have no reason to soar above a desert duststorm. Even Maji couldn't make them out in detail, but what he could see made it clear that they were elementals of some kind - condor-like, but with serpentine necks and long, whip-like tails. They cracked them as they soared and spun, guiding the wind-borne dust and generating spectacular displays of dry lightning whose booms Inks could clearly hear even from this distance.

Her next glimpse at the beings who make the world run was at the gate of the mountains; the treacherous pass called the Giant's Fingers. Inks shivered as she remembered the near miss she'd had during her first experience with this uphill climb; the looming pillars reaching up on either side of her like the trunks of vast trees or a cage of two unimaginably huge hands. It's as she's scanning the uphill slopes for any rockfalls like last time's that she sees it - a creature something like a goat and something like a bull, with a broad crest of stone framing its head and a hide like pebbled gravel. It's standing near what her craftwoman's eyes pick out as an unstable wall, and she can't help but wonder - is one of these things what knocked the rocks loose last time?

Finally, her last encounter was a delightful one. Etiyadi's lands were lush and verdant, and as she raised a fort on a rocky bank during their next-but-last stop before Etiyadi's capital, she was startled by a host of tiny voices crying out and a swarm of tiny creatures mobbing it. Closer examination proved them to be little burrowing ants with wooden bodies and sharp, strangely root-like mandibles. They weren't sapient - their cries were the same crude old realm as the creature that had attacked her during her last trip to these mountains - but they seemed delighted by the opportunity to dig into the new rock and leave little cracks and crevices in it - suitable, no doubt, for roots to grow down and break the stone apart from within.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice!)  
>  Inks: (So a number of more animal elemental species that suggest at a richer presence in the region?)  
>  ST: ((Inks spots some desert-dwelling air elementals that regulate sandstorms from a distance, sees an earth elemental in the Giant's Fingers that potentially have something to do with avalanches in the passes and cliffs, and some adorable little non-sapient wood elementals that seem to be formed to allow wood essence into earth that's too rocky for plants to penetrate and which, yes, indicate there might be a more powerful and sapient court in the general area.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent~)  
>  Inks: ((implicitly I don't think any of these are viable reputation-summons, just yet, but with some Reserach, Inks can find names or types that can hear her call?)  
>  ST: ((She also sees a powerful sapient fire elemental from a close enough distance to talk to her, but that's nothing new.))  
>  ST: ((:V))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, these are just leads for the moment.))  
>  Inks: (kek)  
>  Inks: (So now we visit Etiyadi-land once more?)  
>  ST: ((Indeed. BIG VOLCANO.))  
>  Inks: (writans!)  
> 

* * *

Green! With tall volcanic hill and mountainsides that comprise Tekultali's domain and elsewhere. Mountain sheep and goat, harder mountain crops and the expert weavers and dye-makers of Etiyadi's domain!

Here and there the white shogunate stonework that was more characteristic of Xandia's realm stood out, but for the most part Etiyadi's nation was one of fertile tranquility juxtaposed against the almost constant sputter and fume of volcanic activities- thankfully far and away from most settled places. Here, Inks's reputation was well known, with many people noting her by word and deed if not name. Nabijah, sadly, was bored.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Heh. Yes, sigh. Inks is benefiting from her "Gem's Painted Beauty" Reputation (which in this region includes 'Etiyadi's Lover' and 'Daughter of the Sun' associations as well as the old 'Sand Dragon's Handmaiden' one), her "Solar Surgeon" Reputation from Xandia's land (which is easier for people to identify if she's wearing her special golden flame-bindi they gave her), and her "Stormwarden" Reputation, which has had ample time to spread.))  
>  ST: ((4 dots, 3 dots and 3 dots respectively.))  
>  Inks: (neat!)  
>  ST: ((Any sights she wants to see, or will she go straight to Etiyadi?))  
>  Inks: (Straight to Eityadi, sights can happen a bit later)  
>  Inks: (or as post-session sidestories)  
> 

* * *

Pipera peeled off with the rest of the group to get them settled, organise lodgings for them all, get their beasts of burden stabled and fed and all the other thousand little bits of paperwork and organisation involved in a long journey. Vahti, by contrast, dramatically threw off her travelling cloak to bare her midriff, whooped at the great black peak of the mountain with its heavily forested sides, and threw an arm around Inks' hips as they were shown on in. The speed with which they were met by guards and accompanied in - with no waiting whatsoever - all but guaranteed that Etiyadi had known they were coming; probably forewarned by runners.

Which meant that likely the only reason she hadn't met them outside herself was that she wanted to be typically dramatic about things. No surprise there.

She was waiting in the lava-chamber throne room she'd met them in the first time, with a full gathering of her court arrayed to the sides of the room. Seated in her volcanic throne, Etiyadi had obviously gone to some trouble to dress up for the occasion - adorned with scandalously minimalistic fabrics and body paint, with a wealth of jewelery weighing down her limbs and the gorgeous crown Inks had crafted for her as a gift braided into her elaborate hairstyle. She lounged seductively in her seat, and smirked as Inks was announced.

"Well well," she purred. "The Beauty of Gem. The Sun-Surgeon of the Torchbearers. The Stormwarden of the high mountains. The woman who holds the leash of that old monster Elemi Piercing Sun, come in person to see me. What trifling little favour can I do for you, darling?"

Ah. So that's her game. And yes, quite a few faces in the court already look impressed at the casual familiarity with which their saudari is treating such a living legend.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Hahah! Nice. And I liked the bit with Vahti, you know me~)  
>  ST: ((but of course~))  
> 

Swagger and strut, with an elemental beauty tucked under her arm, Inks grinned back at the shameless, shameless political power move. "Oh, hardly anything of import. Just some time in your gracious presence while preparing for the next leg of my expedition."

Vahti knew a cue when she heard one, and made to move Inks's more glamorous traveling cloak herself, letting it fall into her arms and reveal Inks's own courtly gown. While not as thick with jewelry, it emphasized her curves and body- and the art on every bit of her body. Together the pair approached, sheer charisma and sensual energy made Etiyadi's honor guard lower their swords and raise their spears-

And they parted ways for Inks and Vahti to approach. Standing before Etiyadi's sinfully comfortable lounging throne, Inks took a seat on an empty armrest, smiling with painted lips and glittering eyes. "I could perhaps use a comfortable place to rest my head, after the long trip here."

Perhaps it was fortunate that Pipera wasn't here- Inks was very certain she would have been slain by caustic disdain.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha+Pres+[highest applicable Reputation] to awe the court; +2 stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Mastery of Small Manners, Sagacious REading of Intent on 'Trifling Little Favor', and then Cha+Pres + Painted Beauty + Sexy Stunner + 1st Presence.)  
>  Inks: (So Inks is App 6, 3 sux success on 'read motive' against Eityadi, 1 sentence summary of 'trifling favor intent', and... 26d +1 autosux)  
>  ST: ((Actually, hang on.))  
>  Inks: (hanging)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, uh, that should actually be Appearance+Pres, lol. I don't give you enough opportunities to roll that, and this definitely qualifies as one.))  
>  Inks: (Strictly speaking if this is a Court Thing, we'd be using the Mass Rules)  
>  Inks: (but I like that too!  
>  ST: ((Yeah, fair, cap your Pres with Socialize then.))  
>  ST: ((Roll eet~))  
>  Inks: (5+4+3+4+2d+9d = 27d +1 autosux)  
>  Inks: !ex 27 +1; [1, 5, 1, 9, 1, 8, 8, 4, 1, 10, 7, 5, 8, 9, 6, 7, 5, 10, 2, 7, 8, 3, 1, 7, 6, 9, 6] was rolled for 16 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Lol.))  
> 

Even Etiyadi blushes a little at the overt come-on - and her court breaks out into awed whispering. They were still much as she remembered them; loyal to their lady with a strong sense of national pride and two rough camps. The balance had shifted, though, and the more modern camp who were open to trade and dealing with outsiders had grown - no doubt from the lucrative trade deals they had with Xandia's people and the benefits that the Torchbearers and similar cultural mingling had brought into the region.

Etiyadi had actually cooled down a bit, as far as Inks could tell. Or at least, she didn't seem nearly as sullen about the restrictions that had been agreed on at the summit as Inks might have expected. She was still vain and capricious, but there was affection there for Inks as well - and she was deliberately phrasing her words to improve her own standing by painting this famous Solar as a close personal friend who came to her for help, even as she implied herself influential enough that such favours would be easy for her to supply.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So Etiyadi didn't actually reply to Inks's questions/implications, should I proceed, or do you want to try something?)  
>  Inks: (This is all still super-useful/interesting though!)  
>  ST: ((Oh right, whoops.))  
>  Inks: (I'm going to assume Etiyadi's so flustered and tsun that she distracted the ST)  
> 

Clearing her throat as she got a hold of her reaction, Etiyadi uncrossed and recrossed her legs. "My hospitality is famed, and my doors are always open to friends," she smirked. "I would be glad to indulge you with another taste of my kingdom's comforts."

Drawing on her own arsenal of power moves, Inks's grin turned downright fierce, full of affectionate intent. She leaned over to tilt Etiyadi's gorgeous face up with two figertips under the chin. The court watched in stunned silence as Inks pulled their god-queen leader into a slow, searing, toe-curling stunner of a kiss.

She pulled away with a soft, moist pop, and _Vahti_ squirmed in place, Inks's cloak still draped over her folded arms. Looking down at Etiyadi, Inks grinned. "I'll see you tonight then."  
With that she turned on one graceful heel and sauntered out, hips swaying at maximum smug, sensual sass.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Believe it or else, I have a plan)  
>  Inks: (Roll if any?)  
> 

There was a shifting of metal and a murmur from the guards, but no more than that - Etiyadi must have made some gesture to quell them. The saudari's voice followed after Inks; her pride not letting her relinquish the last word in the exchange.

"I'll be sure to have my handmaids prepare you for me," she called, as the doors swung shut behind Inks.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (hahaha, cute!)  
>  Inks: (So my actual plan was to have a Meaningful Diplomatic Discussion, but this is Inks. She's totally going to mix business and pleasure. So my thinking is that I'll describe in broad strokes the... fun parts, before seguing to the meaningful role and gameplay of intrigue.)  
>  Inks: (Any suggestions, limitations?)  
>  ST: ((Okay, hmm. What's she intending to get done? That is to say; what's her intended best-case takeaway from this?))  
>  Inks: (Her intended best case takeaway is to explain the El Galabi campaign, how it impacts her land directly, and the Coxati/Gem relationship in particular. If Inks succeeds, I hope that Etiyadi will back her as a 'key to power' in the upcoming discussion scenes with the other coxati lords.)  
>  Inks: (Recalling the Despot's advice, I have some plans about that as well, I don't have the charms to _remove_ their desire to maintain the 'sword to Gem's belly', but I do have Wise-Eyed Courtier Method. This is for the scenes AFTER etiyadi, for the record)  
>  Inks: (but the logic is that Inks can use WECM to instill policies that are 'Inks is trustworthy' and 'Inks practices enlightened self interest' and so on.)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Right. Okay, so yeah, given that, you're basically going to need an approach to convince her that El Galabi will offer a _benefit_ that will offset a) getting less money because Gem will need less food, and b) not being able to cut off a war effort by threat of starvation.))  
>  ST: ((Things like "Inks is trustworthy" will totally let you pitch it without her getting angry or offended, but the best that will do is make her believe _you_ think it's a good idea - she still needs a reason to accept less money and more risk; something El Galabi _gives_ her.))  
>  Inks: (Right)  
>  ST: ((If you don't have any ideas, you can roll to think of some.))  
>  Inks: (The immediate is that Inks herself can provide goods/services unique to El Galabi like the Solar manse/hearthstone abilities- Rankar forbad her from 'selling' food to Coxati, iirc.)  
>  ST: ((Yup. But - heh. Well, go ahead and do your sexytimes stunt and then pitch it to her.))  
>  Inks: (I'll take the roll as offered  
>  Inks: (Int+Bur?)  
>  ST: ((Well, I'll introduce it with narration.))  
>  Inks: (gotcha, then I'll just do the original stunt I had in mind)  
> 

* * *

The handmaids did in fact prepare her, which was to say they threw up their hands in mock disgust as they realized Inks was so gorgeous, it meant that they had almost _nothing to do_. Instead it turned into something of a gossip session where Inks wheedled out a number of juicy details and insights into Eityadi's character that were both endearing and politically helpful. 

It didn't help that Etiyadi liked to surround herself with people who were susceptible to her charms, which overlapped neatly with Inks's own talents.

The staff had more fun dressing _Vahti_ for the occasion, and Etiyadi had quickly picked up on the notion that for tonight, Inks and the elemental were a package deal. Not that the lord was complaining.

Dressed to impress in clinging, gossamer silk and little else, the two women were ushered into Etiyadi's private chambers. The doors slammed closed behind them just in time to mute the squeal of delight.

* * *

Peeling off what was left of her gown, Inks curled up next to Etiyadi's body and laid her head on the crook of her shoulder, smiling faintly. The gown hadn't been intended to survive the night, so it was hardly a loss. Pressing a kiss into warm skin, Inks hummed. "So- if you'll forgive the mixing of business and pleasure, I did have some matters of import to discuss."

"Hmm?" Gloriously nude; Etiyadi stretched languidly. "Yes, I suppose you did say. So what is it that brings you here, darling? What mad proposition do you have for me this time?" She threw a mock glare at Inks. "I do hope you won't be trying to convince me to spend more time with that bore, Moto. Urgh! Let me tell you, his last letter to my court, ooo..."

"It is possible that he'll show up, but I plan on being the focus of his... _particular_ sense of humor." Inks offered. Vahti was on Etiyadi's other side, trailing kisses against the dark skin of her neck. Sitting up, Inks smiled. "I am preparing a campaign to retake the temple of El-Galabi, to cleanse it fully of the Dead and restore it to full working order."

"This has a _number_ of consequences for Coxati, your own lands in particular, and the relationship between Gem and your states. Consequences I hope to address and account for."

Inks watched Etiyadi's face change. The volcano daughter wasn't stupid, for all her vanity, and the sated smile slid off her face quickly as she thought through the consequences. "Inks, darling," she smiled without much humour. "It sounds like you're planning to go into competition with my supplies of food to your fair city. Have you grown bored of my produce so quickly?"

The joke belied the reality of the problem, Inks knew. It was an interesting dilemma. She was asking Etiyadi to give up on a substantial sum of money - the food that Gem would otherwise buy, which would be supplied by El Galabi instead - and to accept a lessening of her ability to curb Gem's warmongering by threatening starvation. 

... or, to flip it on its head, she was asking Etiyadi to _pay_ a substantial sum of money and accept a _new_ threat. Yes, perhaps that was a better way to put it. Looking at this like a business transaction, Etiyadi would be paying in both money and potential risk. So, what was she paying for? What could El Galabi offer her that was worth whatever amount the city could feed, as well as a higher risk of Gem declaring war should Inks' promises of peace fall through by some means?  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice. Good characterization on Etiyadi's part too!)  
>  ST: ((So, got any ideas, or do you want to roll?))  
>  Inks: (I'm having Inks think out loud as part of a stunt, so maybe I'll hit on on an idea or she'll say something that sparks something else.)  
> 

"Mmmm." Inks nodded with a solemn look on her face, even as she wriggled her arms around the woman for a reassuring hug. "Haven't grown tired of anything. I specifically want the temple for what it can do for my sorcerous endeavors and more. Rankar wants it because it can secure more diplomatic and economic freedom from other nations- which is... mostly in service to his desire to be the Eternal Despot."

As she was speaking, Inks let her mind not so much split and multiply. Calling forth genius beyond genius to hold a number of independent thoughts and actions in her head. To Etiyadi she spoke aloud, mulling on the particulars of the situation and asking a few questions- circumspect in the sense of not wanting to ruin the mood, but insightful nonetheless.

Her other thought mulled on the economic, social and cultural ramifications of the situation- there were three actors here: Gem, Etiyadi- which represented Coxati in microcosm- and El Galabi, the latter of which was largely unknown in resource or utility.

So there ought be something that some actor provides that can either make up for or improve upon the existing situation- more money going into Coxati, a stronger peace between their governments, or something else...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (trying out OM,MM, cha+invest to get some insight that contributes to the int+bur roll?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, okay. Roll Cha+Investigation at Diff 2 to adjust the Difficulty of the Bureaucracy roll downwards - thresholds reduce it further, but only down to a minimum cap of 4. At the moment it's Diff 8 to guess at what a relatively unknown city could offer a polity that benefits a great deal from it being uninhabited like it is.))  
>  Inks: (Excellent, throwing down... +3 invest autosux, pool is... c3 inv4 +2 style +1 perk, Stunt?)  
>  ST: ((+2))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 +3; [2, 8, 4, 7, 5, 6, 6, 1, 7, 4, 6, 2] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (4 threshold)  
>  Inks: (bur roll is int 5 bur 5, +3 trailblazer style, +1d when seeking investors, +2 stunt, +10 dice, 24d total)  
>  Inks: (it's a bit awkward to ask, but can we assume Inks's Motivation is now 'Retake El Galabi'? It seems like a big enough goal to count)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, I'll allow "take over this city and become an UNQUESTIONED GODQUEEN" to be a step up from "build a merchant empire".))  
>  Inks: (So that means it upgrades to +3 stunt!)  
>  ST: ((Nice~))  
>  Inks: (and if I spend a 'whole scene' advancing my motivation, I get a a WP, so I'll spend one and that tops me off to 10)  
>  Inks: !ex 25 +1; [1, 5, 2, 1, 10, 10, 8, 8, 1, 6, 5, 4, 5, 6, 1, 8, 5, 9, 10, 5, 9, 2, 1, 3, 5] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Diff reduced from 8 to the minimum cap of 4. Int+Bur, gooooo!))  
>  Inks: (Threshold... 8?)  
>  ST: ((Yes, right. Okay then, where were my notes...))  
> 

Listening with one mind and thinking with another, Inks put together a picture of how Etiyadi could benefit from El Galabi's restoration. It was a distressingly short list.

The first option was trade. Oh, not with El Galabi - that city would be dedicated almost entirely to food, which would all be going to Gem. But while El Galabi was east and south of Etiyadi's capital; east and _north_ of it was _Cazhor_. Ruined Cahzor, decrepit Cahzor... but Cahzor nonetheless, built on the bones of power. If Inks applied herself to that dry and dying city and set up a strong trade route up from the valley mouth into the mountains, she could wind a trade route through Etiyadi's capital on its way to El Galabi. She'd be able to sell it to Rankar as further supplying Gem's breadbasket, and the deficit in trade from Gem would be made up for by selling food to Cahzor - which would also earn Etiyadi favour and protection from the Jansi who ruled there.

There were of course downsides with this option. Chief among them would be the lingering resentment towards Piercing Sun that would put Inks in danger there - and a close second would be that any benefit for reestablishing El Galabi would have to be immediate for Etiyadi to go for it. Inks would have to go straight from her campaign to retake the Solar city to fixing up the northern trade route, with no time for her personal projects back in Gem. Still, it was an option.

Her second thought was to look in the other direction. South of El Galabi, Etiyadi's territory came around in a hook that cradled the deserted area around the dead city - but south of _that_ , there was a stretch of mountainous territory east of Pangasutri's borders and north of the Steam Falls that had never been properly settled. The terrain was too harsh even for the Coxati peoples, the hill tribes who did live there were uncooperative and unfriendly towards state control, and even Pangasutri had given up on trying to take the region; instead letting it languish as an unconquered wilderness that game migrated down from into his domain.

With El Galabi just north of the hook, Inks might be able to provide Etiyadi with the resources and persuasive diplomacy to bring that region - hundreds of square miles of it - under her control. Of course, that would be an aggressive move to Pangasutri; flanking a protuberance of his land on two sides and getting alarmingly close to his capital - but Etiyadi, at least, wouldn't necessarily consider that a bad thing. It _would_ mean resistance from the white-eyed lord, though, if he found out Inks had promised such a thing.

Third and fourth were the secrets of El Galabi itself. It was a moderately long shot given how little she knew about the city, but there might be secrets within it - geomantic blueprints or novel farming techniques - that she could share with the Coxati. Certainly, the city had produced enormous amounts of food before the Realm had come, and tempting Etiyadi with those secrets might be enough to win her aid - assuming they were there.

And lastly, of course, was the thought that fell into place so suddenly and simply that Inks interrupted herself with a laugh as she had it. El Galabi's exports hadn't just been food, had they? The whole time she'd known about the city, she'd known of another thing it produced - something valuable indeed, and which could only be made with the city alive and healthy and under her control.

The monks of El Galabi had been wise men; learned and devout and skilled in many arts. Even their twisted yidak were cunning in a way that animal souls shouldn't be, and had magics of their own. Inks could teach people like that too - if she settled in the city, she could teach hundreds of enlightened students; sunblessed men and women who could do things mortal men could not. How might the Coxati flourish if a portion of those spiritually awakened scholars and doctors and craftsmen came from the mountains, and returned there once taught? After all... Rankar had only said she was forbidden from selling _food_ to the mountain lords.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This is one of the things I really enjoy about this game- even if I as the player am only so-so at political wrangling, you give me all kinds of great options and ideas to consider).  
>  Inks: (It helps sell how darn brilliant Inks is too)  
>  ST: ((So, four options, each with a downside.))
> 
> ST: ((Trade route through Cahzor would recoup Etiyadi's losses both in money and in risk, but would mean another major arc spent fixing someone else's city right after El Galabi, and would also be pretty dangerous for Inks personally. A staging point to take unclaimed territory down to the Steam Falls would deffo get Etiyadi onboard, but might start a war with Pangasutri - though that in turn might get Xandia to weigh in if she thought replacing him would expand her coalition. Shogunate geomancy and secrets would be real useful _if_ there are surviving records - the Coxati won't be happy if there aren't. And enlightened scholars mean Inks would have to move there instead of Gem to teach, and dedicate strategic actions to churning out HAM-taught students - half of which she'd have to give back to the Coxati.))
> 
> ST: ((Obviously, more than one option can be proposed.))  
>  ST: ((And the more you offer, the more likely people are to agree.))  
>  Inks: (Indeed.)
> 
> Inks: (Moving to El Galabi is not as big a cost as one might think- especially as I get spells like Travel Without Distance and make those teleport pad working-artifacts I want)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, but it still means strategic actions to pump out students and bleeding them to the Coxati - which Rankar is unlikely to be pleased about))  
>  ST: ((On the other hand, sunblessed students are a big offer.))  
>  Inks: (indeed)  
> 

Breaking off her exuberant giggle to sweep Etiyadi up in a delighted kiss, Inks slid off the bed and sought out some paper and a brush- even it were her bedchambers, Etiyadi was a head of state and she- yes! there at a fine courtly desk of imported hardwoods.

Etiyadi for her part was left bemused and befuddled, hair mussed from the night's activities. She and Vahti both joined Inks- the elemental hugging her friend-lover-employeer from behind and smiling at Etiyadi. "You'll enjoy this- she just got an _idea_."

"If you'll forgive the roughness-" She was writing faster than she was speaking, brushstrokes deft and bold despite the rapidity. "I have a number of options to offer you- instead of not saying anything, I'll just list them all out. He's the challenge though- I can _commit_ to these, maybe not all of them, but I can't in good conscience _promise them_. The distinction is meaningful to me."

Vahti kissed her neck as Inks pulled out another page and brush, writing with both hands, marred only by the fact that she wasn't truly ambidextrous. Cahzor, The Steam Falls, lost Shogunate techniques and arts, and her own talents as a savant and educator blessed by the Sun itself. "Of these, I like the idea of becoming a blessed educator, among other things- but I think as part of negotation, I want to ensure I'm not..." She paused for a moment, contemplative. "I have my own projects, and I want to make sure I can advance them, while holding up my end of the bargain- whatever form that takes."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So the intent here is to do a draft outline of the 4 options, show them to Etiyadi as a gesture of trust- AND to get a read of what she Specifically likes the most other than 'All of them and you as my private bedmate', With the explicit factor of 'Gotta workshop them so we're All Satisfied.')
> 
> ST: ((Heh. Hmm. So I do want this to be more of a "you pick your poison/panacea as a player" than "the NPC decides from the options the ST picked"... hmm. Which interest you most as a player; in order?))  
>  Inks: (Oh I totally get that, and I plan on it, but I wanted to 'game' Etiyadi a bit as well. The fact is I'm interested in all of them, so I kinda want to actually DO all of them, but the way they were presented means that trying would be Insane. Even for Inks. )
> 
> Inks: (So to answer your question: Education, Steam Falls, Shogunate Tech, Chazor Trade route in order. I like the chazor route a lot, mind you, but it seems like a big ask compared to Education?)  
>  Inks: (maybe put Chazor as second, mostly because I do want to tackle it In General, just not be put on a really strict timeline)  
>  Inks: (that way Inks can spend the time she's Educating as also Consolidating in El Galabi before pushing out into Chazor and then back into Gem)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So, hmm.))
> 
> Inks: (So yeah, educating first- every other option basically segues _from_ claiming the city, meaning Etiyadi has an interested in making sure Inks gets it, because doing it that way means all 3 things are even more possible)  
> 

Etiyadi looked them over, murmuring to herself. She initially passed over the shogunate secrets El Galabi might hold, but seemed a lot more interested when Inks mentioned the possibility of thaumaturgic farming techniques - though she hastened to add that it was a hypothesis, nothing more. The potential of expanding south down to the Steam Falls got her even more interested, and her eyes positively glinted when Inks warned that it would likely spark a war with Pangasutri. She was similarly effusive about Cahzor initially, but then hesitated.

"Darling," she said, tapping the paper where Inks had outlined the details and benefits of a projected stable trade route up through Cahzor. "This seems a wonderful idea, but... the Jansi hate the Sand Dragon far more than we Coxati ever did. And I almost threw you into the lava as a sacrifice to my father when we first met!" She gave a highborn laugh, holding her hand up to cover her mouth, before growing serious again. "Are you sure it would be safe for you? I don't like to think what they might do to you should they lay hands on you - and those deyha are savage creatures."

"Chazor is broken." Inks's answer was blunt. "Not just by Piercing Sun, but in general. I went through there on my way back to Gem after Impacci's Vengeance. It was... I could spend ten, twenty years fixing that city. To say nothing of it's people and cultures. They Deyha are crude and brutal, but they've got just as much potential..."

"I _have_ ten or twenty years, or at least I feel I could spare it, I just don't think I can do so _right now_." She tapped the trade route plan. "I honestly want to tackle this- it aligns with my goals in that region anyway, but I'm not _ready_."

"So to answer your question- 'is it safe?' No, It's not at all safe. I would need both a conquering army and an unassailable reputation as a godqueen unquestioned, with a banner of deeds to my name taller than all three of us together. And that's not even accounting for what the Jansi would expect of me."

She looked up at smiled at Etiyadi, basking in her sincere concern. "So for the immediate, I can safely say I am _willing_ to do a great deal, both for this campaign, you, Gem and Coxati in general." She raised the page with the proposal of her establishing an academy of occult sciences medicine, perhaps even sorcery. "This is the plan that I think suits my abilities and resources the most right now. It's the one with the highest  
chance of success."||

"Yes," Etiyadi murmured, taking the last sheet. She scanned it hungrily. "I have to ask, are you sure you're not just teasing me? You really can teach people to do the things you can do?" Oh, she wants that, Inks can tell. She wants it a _lot_.

"If you give me a third of a season, I can teach you to be almost as skilled a doctor and surgeon as I am- you personally. I can do the same for whole classes." Inks grinned. "Like I said, I wish to do more than _just_ teach, but something I can do and improve."

There's a fire burning in Etiyadi's eyes, and it's not a metaphor. Her twintails smolder, and Inks feels the heat of the mountain's liquid blood in her veins. "How many?" she hisses. "How many can you teach like this? How many would you pledge?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (This is really fun and endearing. I'm digging this)  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Would Insightful Buyer/Frugal Merchant apply here? Or just a general roll to determine a good deal?)  
>  Inks: (and while I'm at it, SRoI on 'Pledge' and MosM in general for the 3 sux read on her motives)  
>  ST: ((Uh, she wants to know how many students Inks can turn out - whether she's looking at a handful of governors and court aides or hundreds of scholars who can be deployed to optimize individual villages and so on. And she really, really, really wants the latter, though she'd go for even the former as being valuable.))  
>  Inks: (checking)  
>  Inks: (currently limited to Mag 4)  
>  Inks: (which really is independent of how much time Inks spends teaching)  
> 

Tapping her lips with a thoughtful look on her face, Inks hummed. "Oh, about one, nearly two-"  
Etiyadi's expression fell and the fire in her eyes dimmed, even as she slummped in dissapoint- "Hundred. At a time. Assuming I had the space."  
The fire roared back up again, and Inks managed only an undignified squint before the lady of the volcano tackled her and shoved her tongue down the Solar's throat.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((And on that note, I think, we can close for the night. You've basically won Etiyadi's support with that.))  
>  Inks: (Kek! Next week, Xandia and the other lords!)  
>  \---  
>  Inks: What were your thoughts of the session? Fun I hope?  
>  ST: Fun, yes.  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  ST: You enjoyed?  
>  Inks: I did like the 4 options at the end, and I totally get the 'pick your poison' dynamic  
>  ST: Hee. Indeed.  
>  ST: 4xp+2Sxp+1mxp  
>  Inks: but I really am happy I was able to reason out 'All of these are contingent on X, therefore X is first and easiest to attain, and the others can be invoked later as needed  
>  Inks: cause really it's not that all of them are Better or Worse, it's a question of Order and Time/Resources  
>  Inks: and I really enjoyed the tatters scene!  
>  Inks: I hope you did too  
>  Inks: and Etiyadi is always great fun  
>  ST: She iiiiis~  
>  ST: ^_^  
> 


	61. Session 61: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 4

Two months, Inks gave the Coxati lords to set in place their affairs and journey to the Broken Egg where last she had mediated between them. As it had only taken her a week or so to reach Etiyadi's capital, that left her with some free time - a month in the volcano daughter's capital, to do as she wished - at least during her days. Her nights, alas, were rather spoken for.

"Perhaps," Pipera murmured to her between bouts of organizing trade agreements, "you could follow up on that missing item you were asked about last time. Or perhaps learn how to weave yourself. At the very least, please don't spend the _entire_ here in bed?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Inks effectively has a Minor action she can squeeze in while at the capital. Pipera is spending hers on getting a route set up to send some of those thaum fabrics to Gem for Inks to play with.))  
>  Inks: (Neat!)  
>  ST: ((Vahti wants to use hers to scout out the region in birb form and look for any of her sisters.))  
>  Inks: (thinking/writing!)  
>  ST: ((?))  
>  Inks: (long stunt is long)  
>  ST: ((Post it in bits so I can read as you write?))  
> 

After basking in Pipera's scathing wit and criticism, Inks graced her assistant with a grateful if still somewhat carnally sated smile. Having a task to focus on and no immediate harrowing peril was an obvious balm on Pipera's worries, but Inks could tell there were still lingering scars. "Thank you for the suggestion. Let me know if you need anything."  
She fished out her chronicle of Tekutali's life, having long since rewritten and rebound it into a proper book with room for annotations. Giving it a read over, she fixed it in her memory along with listening to the greater coming and going of Coxati-Etiyadi.

Her actual investigation had to be circumspect, as per the volcano god's request, but her increasing fame in the region (and as Etiyadi's current fascination) opened a number of doors in her court and historical archives. Etiyadi's courtiers were often the type to fall over themselves to please their lord god-daughter, and Inks happily leaned on her association. In essence "Making me happy makes Etiyadi happy."  
And it wasn't like she was looking for meaningful strategic or economic secrets.

Unfortunately not all was perfect- her ability to expand her intellect was growing by leaps and bounds, but she realized there was one critical limitation- she did not have enough eyes to read two books at once. She could read and listen with perfect clarity though, so having an archivist stutter out the history of their home in the vague direction of Inks's cleavage, while winding through scroll after scroll worked well enough.  
Hopefully, she'd be able to track down Tekutali's drum- or at least get a lead.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Sorry about that!)  
>  Inks: (So, re-reading Tekutali's history for a tool bonus, leveraging Inks's reputations for access to historical archives, invoking OMTT to 'Read and Listen' at the same time, and if necessary/applicable, Irresistable Questioning Technique to get her aides to talk more freely. Oh and 'Mastery of Small Manners' for the App boost and small favors clause.)
> 
> ST: ((Okay! Inks is rolling Int+Investigation at Diff 3 to narrow down exactly _when_ the theft occurred, with a +5 Diff bonus to get a possible perp. The historical archives net her a cool +2 bonus, and her read & listen trick lets her go over things it more detail and is functioning as a Diff reducer.))  
>  Inks: (So you're staggering it by threshold, I gotta get 3 to get Something, and if I get 8+, I get a potential perpetrator)  
>  ST: ((Pipera is rolling Manipulation+Bureaucracy at Diff 2 to get that trade route set up for thaum fabrics, and Vahti is rolling Charisma+Investigation at Diff 2 to find a lava duckpond with ducks made of fire on it and go "quack!" hopefully. +2 Diff to make a good impression on them with the quality of her quacks.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so 5 +4 +3 style dice, +2 tool bonus. Nothing from archivist aides?)  
>  Inks: (and/or stunt bonus?)  
>  ST: ((They're folded into the archives - you're getting a +1 from each - and +2 stunt.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, thanks, sorry, so 16 investigation dice, no excellency...)  
>  Inks: !ex 16 "Investigation"; [5, 5, 8, 10, 6, 7, 6, 9, 6, 6, 8, 4, 5, 8, 2, 9] was rolled for 8 successes.
> 
> ST: ((... noice.))  
>  Inks: (Ded average, yet still so good)  
>  ST: ((Damn, I didn't think you were gonna get that.))  
>  Inks: (And I don't even have specialized investiation tech yet for this sort of thing.)  
>  Inks: (Pipera's pool is... what exactly? 8 or 10?)  
>  ST: ((Pipera rolls Manipulation 5 + Bureaucracy 5 + Hidden Depths Accountancy 3 = 13.))  
>  Inks: !ex 13 "Pipera"; [8, 4, 2, 1, 8, 5, 10, 7, 4, 3, 6, 10, 8] was rolled for 8 successes.
> 
> ST: ((And I think you have a roughed-out statblock for Vahti? What would her Cha+Inv be, by that?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Can Vahti boost her pool? As per her character sheet, it's Cha 2, Invest 0.)  
>  ST: ((She has a +1 circumstance bonus from the PREPONDERENCE OF VOLCANOES, and a +1 stunt.))  
>  Inks: (I focused on her mental stats the last time I put her through a training course, so she's Per 4 Int 4, but pretty 'normal' as far as charisma and manip goes)  
>  Inks: !ex 4; [7, 4, 2, 2] was rolled for 1 success.
> 
> Inks: (alas)  
>  Inks: (Well fail forward, iirc?)  
>  ST: ((She finds a nice lava lake with ducks made of fire swimming around in it and quacking happily. However, none of them turn into hot green chicks when she flies down and quacks at them, so presumably the mature fire ducks were out at the shops when she was there.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)  
>  ST: ((She does, however, insist that it was very eloquent quacking on her part.))  
>  Inks: (Heh)  
> 

It took three weeks of delving through the archives, several days of interrogating some of the older members of the palace staff and a couple more exhaustively long conversations with the old god, but Inks eventually thought she'd narrowed down a time frame for the theft - and perhaps a possible perpetrator. Or, uh... perpetrators, plural. She only has a general range of time to go on.

But from cross-referencing the volcanic activity in the nearby mountains with the recorded public appearances of Tekutali at court and the areas in his personal account where he gets a bit vague, she gets a range of possibilities for the time frame. Then, on the assumption that the old god probably tore up most of the local area looking for it in the immediate aftermath of it having been taken, Inks decides to take it as an axiom that it were someone nearby he would have found it by now. That lets her overlay her time frame map on top of trade records for any foreign group or caravan she judges large enough to have hidden the thing on the way out and which stayed for longer than a week - because stealing something like this from a god's sanctum would no doubt involve planning, and even if you did the majority of it somewhere far away, you'd need to adapt it to any local fluctuations first.

And since he's fairly reclusive and spends the majority of his time in his sanctum, she can _also_ assume that something had to draw him out of it for the theft to go ahead. Which means she can go back to the records of his public appearances and spike her time frame and opportunity maps with events where he was away from the volcano for any length of time! There aren't many of those; mostly wyld activity, and there are only four occasions where all three overlap - three of which are ruled out by a single passing reference to the drum still being there two years after the third, which she confirms as truthful by asking him for more detail on the passage.

That leaves a single period. A two-week period less than a decade ago, during which Tekutali spent six days of fourteen away from his mountain, dealing with a wyld-contaminated volcano to the south of his range that had been polluted by some idiot casting a live chaos prince into its caldera after a bitter fight. Inks checks - and rechecks, because honestly that sounds interesting as hell - but unfortunately there's no elaboration as to the idiot in question or how they were able to duel a greater raksha. Maybe some traveling Dragonblood - or a passing Lunar? Worth following up on, perhaps.

Regardless, during that two-week period there were only three groups passing through the capital; one of them barely overlapping the end of the week and the other two passing one another in different directions during a layover.

The first, worryingly enough, was one of the hunter-lords of Estli, to the west of Xandia - the same region that 'Hunter' had described as being still ruled by one of Luna's descendants. Should Tekutali discover that one of his daughter's fellow lords stole his drum, he will not be pleased.

The second was closer to home - Trasti Lefon; father to Trasti Gion, on his way back from an effort to extend Trasti banking services into the mountains and perhaps negotiate passage over them to access the gambling business in the southwest. Unfortunately, she can't go ask him about it on her return to Gem, because he died less than a week after getting back to Gem under the kind of "mysterious circumstances" that read as very thin code for "someone murdered him to put his unprepared and out-of-his-depth son in charge of the family". The list of people who stood to gain from _that_ is literally too long to count, but it might be worth asking him anyway.

And finally - and most worryingly - there had been a visitor just overlapping the end of the fortnight, passing through quickly and quietly with a small party. The records don't name them... but putting things together, Inks is _relatively_ sure that it was some kind of envoy from the Realm. Which is doubly worrying. Once, because if _they_ took it there's no telling where the drum might now be. And twice, because if they were coming over the long and treacherous mountains instead of just taking the well-paved route down from the Lap, they probably had cloak-and-dagger reasons for doing it - and this is the first she's heard about any Realm presence this far south at all.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Dun dun duuunnnn!)  
>  ST: ((Hope you enjoyed Inks being brilliant in how she narrowed down the timeframe. :D))  
>  Inks: (That was a _lot_ of information. But basically 3 primary leads: Estli, Gion, and The Realm. I diiiiid!)  
>  Inks: (So that covers this minor action, so if there's any detail for Pipera or Vahti's actions, that's next. And then we move on to the scene at the demense?)  
>  Inks: (plus any IC reactions I want to do for above)  
>  ST: ((Indeed. Well, Inks can react to that, and go ask Pipera and Vahti how they've been doing.))  
>  Inks: (Sounds good)  
> 

* * *

Vahti and Pipera found their ostensible boss facing a fine oak pillar in the shared working space of their quarters in Etiyadi's manor-palace. Her head rocked back and forth, thumping heavily into the wood over and over. "Why. Why are all the fun things I do so much woooooorrrrkkk."

Spinning around on one heel, she swanned into a nearby lounge cushion, looking less like a glamorous socialite or brilliant engineer and more like a mildly piqued woman without much in the way of cares to give. She wasn't really _upset_ , but the sheer scope of the challenge ahead of her was exactly as bad as she had feared since first hearing about it.

At their questioning look, Inks waved them off. "I'll explain later. It's not really something I should talk about openly anyway. How've you two been?" She sat up, more enthused to her about their exploits than ramble about her own.

"Well, the trade deal is sorted," Pipera yawns. "It took some arguing and an agreement to source gold-tipped needles that they use for some of their finer weaves - I set that up under your Iblan name - but by the time we get back to Gem you'll have some essence-imbued fabrics to play with. I'm sure your would-be husband would be delighted to act as a testbed for their use in sails," she added with a smirk.

"I flew around a lot," Vahti shrugs. "These mountains are really pretty for the first, like, half-an-hour or so, and then they kinda get boring. After four weeks? Yeah, I'm pretty done with them."

"Did you find what you were _looking_ for?" Pipera prompts.

"Oh, right. Uh, yes and also kinda no? There's a lava lake a bit northwest of here that felt really homey and had some other fire ducks swimming around on it, and when I flew down and swam around it felt familiar, so I might have been born there? But none of them were like me. They were all just birds."

"We should swing by again on the way back, maybe see if they've come back or leave a message." She hums, wondering....

Smiling at Vahti, Inks nodded. "I think we'll do that. If nothing else, ducks in a magma pool sounds adorable."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Can I use Summon Elemental to call spirits by trait, not name? Like 'Flame Duck from This Location, please come to my call?)  
>  ST: ((If you've got a tie to them, yeah. If you came back and made a Pact with their self-aware sisters, or just worked at getting the non-sapient ones to like you, you could call on them.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, so I have to go ther personally and feed the ducks, at the very least)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

* * *

The time came, at last, for them to set out towards the Broken Egg. It came, in fact, later than it otherwise might have, because Etiyadi had got wind of the speed, ease and comfort with which Inks could lead groups through harsh terrain and had promptly demanded they join expeditions so that she could 'travel in the style to which she was accustomed'. That she couldn't possibly be accustomed to it on account of a general lack of any other Solar Exalts in the area - barring the one who'd been dead for thirty years and was the current subject of discussion - went politely unacknowledged.

Not that indulging her was a particular chore- it gave Inks more time to properly prepare Etiyadi for the upcoming talks. Fortunately, Inks hadn't been required or requested to leverage more of her time and talent spoiling Etiyadi- she had her own national infrastructure to do that.

It did means he had a *very* well appointed... wagon palanquin? Inks wasn't exactly sure how to describe it other than 'swank' and 'Etiyadi-an'. Pipera called it tacky. (Pipera was not wrong.) 

'Alas', Inks could not spend every minute hanging on Etiyadi's word- she had to actually lead the group through the wilderness, taking advantage of the roads leading out of Coxati-Etiyadi and into the fuzzier border space between her lands and Xandias. More of the Shogunate ruins dotted the landscape, imperishable white stone that seemed to defy age jutting up from hill and cliff face.

The interesting thing to Inks's mind was how even at their most overgrown, they were fastidiously clean- even the plants themselves were richer, more vibrantly green and brown, instead of drawing in the expected soil and dust from encroaching vegetation.

Still, travel was travel, and Inks enjoyed the walk. Probably a bit more than Pipera did...

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Travel stunt, I guess? Hope you liked the details!)  
>  ST: ((Nice, heh.))  
>  Inks: (lemme know if I need to roll something or if SUDDEN EVENT) happens  
>  Inks: (TRN invoked, obviously)  
> 

The fussy water aspect certainly seemed relieved when they reached their destination and looped around off the main trail for a two-day journey south along the border. The high-walled valley was still there to greet them, and so was something that hadn't been here the last time Inks had entered this valley - a three-storey building-complex at the entrance to the valley; its sloping silhouette merging gracefully into the steep hills. No gate or berm or moat guarded this complex; the wall lay open and welcoming with blue banners fluttering to either side of it; embroidered with the open-V'd circle that was the symbol of the Broken Egg.

"Huh," Pipera murmured, reading the huge blue-and-grey banner that hung from the largest, central tower. If it were less than ten feet wide and forty high, Inks would eat her veil. "They named it."

They had indeed named the living-complex Inks had raised the last time she was here - "the Dove's Nest", it was now called - and they had furnished it lavishly. Looking around with a critical eye, Inks was impressed to see that it had apparently been a cooperative effort. Etiyadi's woods and fabrics were everywhere, but there were clear marks of Xandia's people as well - even a low tower with a blue-fringed golden flame Torchbearer symbol; apparently a permanent delegation.

"Welcome all," read the banner below the complex's name. "Let none shed blood here." Inks was willing to bet it had the tingle of thaumaturgy to it.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (yesssss)  
> 

Inks grinned at the banner, pleased beyond measure. "Mmm. Pipera. Fair warning. I want to hug you. We did *good*."

Vahti, having no such reservations did in fact glomp Inks, happy that she was happy.

"Hug me later," Pipera grumps. "I'm going to find out if the furnishings they gave this place includes any baths." Etiyadi is right behind her, evidently feeling similarly.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So, Inks can either turn in for the night and cut to the demesne proper, or see if anyone else is here.))  
>  Inks: (Inks could probably make a bath with Water From Stone if necessary...)  
> 

With Maji at her side, Inks wandered the grounds, trusting her caravan to comport themselves well. Or at least well enough. There were already a number of diplomatic camps set up, and the two 'fortresses' she'd built last time were still there, a ways away from the geomancy but expanded and refurnished.

She looked for banners, flags and symbols of the land, recalling the dossiers Brushed Sand Salib had given her almost three years ago.

The first and most obvious group she happened across was Xandia's. The young woman herself was nowhere in evidence - "out" was the unhelpful reply when she asked - but from how they were dug in it looked like they'd been here a while; perhaps a week or so. Probably Xandia had come up with the same idea as Inks and decided to get here first so that she'd have some alone time to sound out any other lords who arrived before Inks did.

It looked like she'd got her wish - or perhaps her wish had backfired on her - because there was another group around one of the side towers on the complex, and when Inks looked upwards she spotted what looked very much like an artificial bird-automaton circling above the complex. Moto, then, had decided to come see what was happening. Joy of joys, she thought sarcastically.

And last - beyond the permanent staff that this little place had apparently grown now that it was habitable - was an envoy from Akna, who the torchbearers (after some delighted greetings and embarrassed babbling hero-worship) said had not deigned to reside within the Dove's Nest itself.

Pangasutri, they said, had been sent an invitation - but if he was coming, he had yet to arrive, and there had been no reply sent back with the messenger.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Neat!)  
>  Inks: (So there's habitable spaces in/near the demense, Akna decided not to use them. Dignitaries include Moto, Xandia, Etiyadi, Akna, and Inks herself)
> 
> ST: ((The habitable bits is the Dove's Wings - the fortress-thing Inks raised with RtEB last time she was here, which they've furnished and expanded a bit and turned into this living-complex.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, neat)  
>  ST: ((Akna isn't here himself, but sent an envoy - who, yes, elected not to stay there.))  
>  Inks: (Right, saying the leader/faction names, not the character names)  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  ST: ((And Pangasutri is either not coming or cutting it very, very fine.))  
>  ST: ((The date of the conference is the next day.))  
>  Inks: (Legit.)  
>  Inks: (So this is how I THINK this is going to work: This is a court v court encounter, with each faction leading it's own delegation of like 5-20 people, Mag 1-2 basically each. Inks can count as a Mag 2 unit herself because MoSM effectively.)
> 
> ST: ((Yup yup.))  
>  Inks: (The plan is to use Understanding the Court, which is like Evidence Discerning Method but for court intrigue. It'd be like a man in the middle attack of keys to power almost; negating penalties on court interactions)  
>  Inks: (This further enhances Inks's ability to use Wise Eyed Courtier Method on each court.)  
>  Inks: (Now since Pangasutri isn't here yet, my fear is that if Inks uses UtC now and he shows up late, her penalty negating profile will collapse. It's a risk I'll have to take but mitigate...)  
>  Inks: (Hmm.... The simplest idea that comes to mind is that Inks declares the session closed to new petitions once it gets started, if they're late, they're late and can't join the negotations.... Hmm...)  
>  Inks: (Nah. I won't do that. I'll just have to figure something else out.)
> 
> Inks: (So the talks start tomorrow, and as they get moving, I'll be invoking Understanding the Court, which is a [Per/Int+Socialize] check at Diff 1, subtracting the highest [man+soc + magnitude]/2 from her roll among all attending courts who are actively misleading her.)  
>  Inks: (A major player being absent also can inflict a penalty)  
>  Inks: (I'm ready to scene change when you are)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
> 

* * *

Morning dawned bright, cold and clear over the valley. The assembled lords and envoys of the Coxati - and of Gem - rose with the dawn, and made their way in separate groups up to the cul-de-sac at the end of the valley by different paths, circling round to approach the Egg from different directions.

Inks felt the tingle as she entered the valley proper. The wood of the trees was as hard and grey as the local stone, the leaves were stiff plates of agate. Bones sat or lay in the lee of bushes and cradled by roots; petrified into geodes whose blue crystals showed through age-weathered cracks. The air was sharp and still, broken only by the rustles of armadillos who scurried in the undergrowth and ran fearlessly across Inks' feet,  
unafraid of predators they'd never known the existence of.

And then she came upon the boulder, broken in two with glittering cerulean within, and the peaceful waves welcomed her back. The end of the valley wasn't the only place people had been busy. Someone had stacked cut stone around the Broken Egg - within the ring of calcified armadillos, but outside the stone clearing itself. Inks recognised the rough cylinders of supports, the stacked flat shapes of flagstones. Someday - in two years, or twenty, or maybe two hundred - the magic of the demesne would finish calcifying these into pure agate; changed from the centre on outwards until they were pure crystal. Then they would be used to build the pavilion she'd envisioned.

It felt like a Xandia plan, Inks thought. That kind of long-term planning wasn't Etiyadi's thing.

Reaching out with a reverent touch, Inks let her fingers brush along the cut stone. A misty-eyed smile played across her face, and she let out a pleased hum that seemed to make the crystals nearby sing.

She stepped past the boulder, and sat down at the circular table; Pipera, Maji and Vahti at her back. To her left, Etiyadi settled down to lounge on a low wood-and-fabric folding chair, a small cluster of courtiers kneeling behind her.

On the other side of the table, Xandia's sharp eyes took her in. Her hair was braided tightly in zigzagging cornrows, and her facepaint was a mix of dark browns and blacks with white highlights high on her cheeks and below her eyes. A cerulean scarf wrapped twice around her neck in an intricate knot, and a cluster of her advisors stood behind her - including a gold-flame torchbearer and Priscia. The young woman Inks had saved gave her a quiet smile and a finger-waggle wave from behind Xandia's back.

Susili Moto was as much of an asshole as ever, of course. He had his feet up on the table, and was tinkering with a small metallic device using a multitool, apparently lacking any respect for the sacred place. Rather than guards, he'd brought automata - six stocky bear-like metal things that gave off an faintly acrid smell and sat perfectly still behind him. A few people accompanied him too - including a dark-skinned, enormous man who Inks pegged as probably being Ilhicamina; the giant-blooded head of Moto's military force.

And then there was the last envoy present. A tall, slender being with purple skin, water-slick black hair and a long blue robe trimmed with otter-fur. Their face was whiskered, their hands were webbed, and their eyes were solid black with nictitating membranes that fluttered shut sideways - but for all of that, when they tilted their head and smiled at Inks in response to her attention it was in a childish and oddly cute manner.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (...That is supernatural cute.)  
>  ST: ((what gave it away?))  
>  ST: ((Was it the otter fur robe? :V))  
>  ST: ((You practically _need_ to be supernatural to get the little bastards to part with their hide.))  
> 

Dressed to impress- her gown of the moment was flattering, hugging her arms and chest and covering more of her bust than she normally preferred, but the goal was to be elegant and professional. Inks had brushed her hair away just so to reveal the adamant bindi on her brow, and took in the lords, dignitaries and envoys.

Supporting Inks's group was Pipera, resplendent in her own officious best suit jacket and smartly creased pants. While the other woman rarely showed her skin, she was no stranger to flattering cuts and fine craftsmanship. Vahti and Maji stood as ceremonial guards, the former dressed more conservatively than her norm by orders of magnitude, but also basking in the ambiance of the demense itself...  
Inks was certian Vahti was more interested in the salacious aspects of the Venusian influence.

To Xandia and Priscia, Inks gave a warm, happy smile. To Moto she did not exactly glower or frown- she'd learned a lot from her previous encounter, and was far more prepared for his tactics. Akna's delegation were the cipher of the event, something she had almost no insight into just yet.

Taking in the being's obvious traits, Inks considered the implications- a spirit, or the blood of same running through their veins? She wasn't sure.||  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Occult on the Akna envoy?)  
>  ST: ((Go for it.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10; [9, 3, 10, 1, 6, 1, 3, 3, 10, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

Water elemental, Inks categorized... it? Them? Him, she was gonna go with 'probably him'. His chest seemed flat, anyway, even if he was a bit androgynous. But yes, he was a water elemental, some kind of... otter? Newt? Otter-newt? Something like that. Freshwater, obviously, and given his aesthetics... she was leaning towards "river" rather than "lake". Something about him spoke more of moving water than still; a kind of flowing, frolicking energy and delighted motion to him even when he was standing still, smiling at the table and watching from his place next to the geode.

Curiosity for the moment satisfied, Inks focused her considerable attention back on the court. She watched every face, careful to note what tells were obvious and what were subtle. The shuffle of paper, the scratch of quill nib on ink stone, someone had caught a bit of hayfever on the trip down...

"Thank you all for coming." Inks took a seat with a winsome smile. It slipped away as the seriousness of her goal took over. "What I have come to request of you is a big ask. It has enduring consequences for your nation and that of Gem, which I am also representing." 

"Before submitting that for your consideration, i'd like to introduce myself. My name is Iblan Inks, court sorcerer of Gem and merchant-interest with numerous endeavors throughout the region." She smiled again, meeting each of the dignitaries eyes in turn. "I've met most of you before, but for the record, i'd like you to state your names and your stakes in these talks."  
As she said that, Pipera produced a stack of papers and a brush, trusting Inks to take it up and write with a rapid, elegant hand.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Good off camera suggestion of asking for introductions and stakes. Inks'll be using OMTT to Write and Listen at the same time as well as Think, and Whirling Brush Method, of course.)  
> 

"I am Saudari Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth," says Etiyadi, winning the race to the first word by dint of a glare towards Moto so poisonous that Inks almost reaches for an antidote. "My kingdom is the Gate of the Coxati; the vanguard to the lowlands. Whatever the effects of your proposal," she smirks, and Inks inwardly sighs at the obvious tell that Etiyadi knows in advance what she'll be proposing, "my kingdom will no doubt be first to feel  
them."

Moto snorts. Xandia raises an eyebrow, but doesn't react beyond that. The elemental just smiles, cocking his head the other way as Xandia speaks up. "Thlatht-Waeishrun Xandia is my name," she says quietly. "Twenty-third of my line. To call a meeting like this, you mean to propose something that will affect the Coxati as a whole. My kingdom is what connects east to west, north to south - the heart of the budding coalition. It would be  
foolish for me not to hear this venture."

"And of course you're no fool, right, princess?" Moto drawls, finally looking up from the trinket he's been toying with. He flashes a smirk at the table. "Oh, come on, you all know who I am. Don't mind me; I'm just here to watch, like the newt over there. I doubt whatever parade the handmaid's dreamt up will stretch as far north as my lands, but I'm eager to see what she's here for this time."

The last member of the assembled group stays silent for a while, until all four heads turn to him. Then a surprised look dawns. "Oh!" he says, with a chirping undernote to his voice. "Is this me, too? Yes yes, never mind, I am the one called Blueswell. I am here for my lords, to watch and bring back word."

He appears to feel that's satisfactory, rocking back on his heels and closing his eyes in another beaming smile.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Judge's ear on 'Watch and bring back word')  
>  ST: ((NOT FALSEHOOD))  
>  ST: ((Also, he is literally making the ^_^ expression.))  
>  Inks: (pfff)  
>  Inks: (While I'm here, let's do the UtC roll, assuming above as a stunt)  
>  Inks: (Any external penalty?)  
>  ST: ((Sorry. He was annoying me.))  
>  Inks: (I totally understand)  
>  ST: ((... have you actually added UtC to your character sheet?))  
>  ST: ((Ah, yes, found it.))  
>  ST: ((... you wanna look at the formatting there, because it's a repeat of WECM.))  
>  Inks: (I know, hit refresh  
>  ST: ((Okay, yeah, -3 external penalty. On a completely unrelated note, Moto is a dick.))  
>  Inks: (Kek, 10d +4d, +5 autosux, -3 penalty)  
>  Inks: !ex 14 +5 -3; [9, 6, 2, 10, 10, 2, 2, 2, 5, 2, 3, 3, 7, 5] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (So I now negate 4 points of penalty on all subsequent dramatic and social actions among these groups)  
>  ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

"I appreciate your candor, all of you." Inks offered with a polite smile. She had to lead with the worst, to get it all out and to stay ahead of the arguments. "I am preparing a campaign to retake and cleanse the temple city of El Galabi, to remove the taint of the dead from that place, and refurbish it. As part of the support granted by the Despot of Gem, I am obligated to secure it's facilities for food production."

Letting that sink in, Inks nodded. "That does mean that Coxati's economic leverage against Gem as a primary food supplier is in jeopardy. I recognize this, and acknowledge that it is a brutal cost. I asked that you all join me here to device a plan and agreement that sees the city cleansed, the Coxati left with tangible assurances of their sovereignty, and assurances for me that Coxati will either aid me in securing the city- the  
form of that aid is undecided- or agree to not interfere with my objective.

The byplay of power and intrigue in the room seemed to snap into crystal clarity- Moto's unrepentant disregard for... everything not even registering on her sense of the proceedings. "So with that in mind, I am eager to hear your proposals and insights into this matter.

Etiyadi smirks. Xandia blinks, once. Moto raises an eyebrow. Blueswell sways forward onto his toes, clasping his hands together like an excited child.  
And in the distance, footsteps sound. The tramp-tramp-tramp of marching boots coming closer.

He rounds the corner atop a white ibex with great curving horns that stone talismans hang from. He is unarmed and unarmoured, but bandages wrap his hands and forearms that speak of a martial artist. A white cloth blindfold hides his milky eyes from a world they cannot see, and a single tattooed symbol sits atop his shaved head. The men who follow him wear the symbol of the white eye; pupil-less and judgmental. They march in perfect step,  
and move like killers.

He's powerfully built - shorter than Inks, but broad of shoulder and heavy with muscle. Aging, yes - in his sixties now - but no less deadly for it. The armadillos chitter and cluster around his feet as he dismounts; his ibex nuzzling his shoulder before stepping back. On his shoulder, a thrush is perched.

"I hope," says Pangasutri White-Eyes in a deep, commanding voice, "that you did not start without me."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Kek.)  
>  ST: ((And for bed-related reasons, I think I will call it there. :V))  
>  Inks: (Agreed, dammit I *knew* something tricksy like thsi was coming. Oh well)  
>  Inks: XP?  
>  ST: If it helps, I was gonna have him pull a dramatic bitch entrance even before you brought up Understanding the Court.  
>  Inks: I figured, but it means I'll have to undo it, reroll it and regain the *twenty motes*  
>  ST: You pointing out that it might cause you problems if he entered after you used it was just a bonus. :P  
>  Inks: heh  
>  ST: Anyway, yes, 4xp +3 WRAPAROUND SORCERY XP YO +1mxp  
>  Inks: anyway! Was a fun session  
>  ST: thoughts on the two newbies?  
>  Inks: Pangasturi's gonna be *fun*. Blueswell I'm not sure about, but 'Adorable otterperson' is already sounding great  
>  Inks: he's coming off like a KSBD character  
>  ST: :D  
> 


	62. Session 62: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 5

"I hope," says Pangasutri White-Eyes in a deep, commanding voice, "that you did not start without me."

Silence hangs over the circular table for a moment. Xandia remained still; looking at the man warily. There was strife between them, Inks remembers - she'd opened her career as Xand with a set of brilliant strategic plays against him that had left him furious.

Moto, feet still up on the table, flashes his counterpart a grin and blows a mocking kiss, which glances off Pangasutri's commanding presence without the mountain-lord deigning to acknowledge its existence. Blueswell waves at him happily, receiving no more of a response.

It's Etiyadi who rises from her lounging position and dips him a calculatedly-shallow nod of respect. "Lord White-Eyes," she says; speaking for the group with a hint of smugness. "We were beginning to wonder if you had forgotten the set time for our conference. Please, be seated."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can jump in with a comment or scope out who and what he's brought, etc.))  
> ST: ((Declare any charms she decides to use.))  
> Inks: (ye! I assume this voids my previous Understanding the Court roll, so I'll decommit those motes and think about what to do next, Wirtans!)  
> 

  
  
All the while, Inks was transcribing- Pangasutri's words, how he arrived and his party, and the responses of all the other Coxati lords- her hand and brush moved with rapid, certain strokes that left small, bold marks on the page. She had to write small, to fit the level of detail she wanted.

"I do apologize." She said and wrote, "I had made an assumption and miscalculated." She looked over Pangasutri's group once more, to both note their descriptions and get a read on his diplomatic style.

The envoys looked particularly martial, following the same basic pattern of their lord. They reminded Inks of stories of iron-skinned monks with linen-wrapped hands and iron-shod rings woven together as bracers. Warriors, martial artists. Maybe she was wrong, but the impression was undeniable. "But yes, please join us, we can bring you up to speed."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per+invest on his retinue, Mastery of Small Manners to read his motives and come off as charming and pleasant)  
> Inks: (Stunt/Difficulty?)  
> Inks: (Also I'm gonna be running at least one thread of OMTT so Inks can transcribe the entire meeting.)  
> ST: ((2-die stunt, Diff 2. And nice, heh.))  
> Inks: !ex 13  
> Inks: (6 successes, threshold 4)  
> 

  
  
Warriors and martial artists, yes, Inks thought. And more than that. Killers. Trained, blooded fighters - ones who fought with beyond-mortal skill. They weren't quite as potent as... well, as fighting-monks she might train if she could apply her teaching methods to the arts of combat, for example. But the training she'd received from Piercing Sun told her they would still be fearsome opponents for normal groups - and Pangasutri had   
brought several dozen of them.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks guesses that the martial artists have Ability ratings higher than the mortal limit of 3, and may be Enlightened with basic, limited Style Excellencies. They probably don't have actual Charms like a Tiger Warrior would, but they're still potent, magical fighters - and he's brought a Mag 3 unit.))  
> Inks: (Way to read the room Pangasutri)  
> 

  
  
As for Pangasutri himself? He was rigid and uncompromising; absolute in his view of the world. He was here to make sure that whatever happened here didn't break his personal rules - and Inks could tell he'd be willing to resort to violence if it did.

She'd done well choosing this demesne of Venus for the meeting.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So something to keep in mind, but Pangasutri hasn't taken a seat yet nor has this informative response moved the scene forward. I can write that myself, but I'm usually loathe to take over for opponent NPCs like that.)  
> Inks: (... Pangasutri is Inks's Conviction Foil, isn't he? Either that or Temperance. Xandia may have big goals, but she's more Smart/Perceptive)  
> ST: ((Oh right, whoops.))  
> ST: ((*smiles*))  
> Inks: (Also as a gentle reminder, Pipera can whisper to Inks, so we can invoke her for DB perceptiveness)  
> 

  
  
Pangasutri didn't respond to either woman at first. His blindfolded eyes swept over the group - Blueswell, Moto, Etiyadi, Xandia - somehow he aimed a scowl at her, despite his blindness.

Then his arm came up, and he spoke.

"I will take no seat while that creature is present," he said. "Banish it. At once."

His finger was pointing directly at Inks.

Still writing, and smiling despite the accusation, Inks looked up at the lord. "On what grounds?"

His expression was scornful. "It is a demon," he spat. "Corrupt and foul. It taints this sacred place with its presence. Banish it, or I will _remove_ it."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks still has her customary stomach bottle bug inside her~))  
> Inks: (I was thinking that!)  
> ST: ((And that tells Inks that not only does he have some way of compensating for his lack of sight; it's enough that he can pick out a demon that's _inside someone_ when he's close enough to it.))  
> 

  
  
Blinking once, Inks laughed. "Ah! Totally understandable. Just... used to people calling me a creature or demon."

Having said that, she slowly called Chronicle to her hand, laying it flat on the table and placing her palm on the wide face. (She was still writing the entire exchange out with her other). Essence surged within her, and she pressed a palm against her stomach. "Sorry, little one."

Channeling her might through the symbolic nature of her weapon, she cast the stomach bottle bug back to Malfeas! Facing Pangasutri, she smiled again. "Acceptable?"

Flicking his hand at his men, most of whom drew back outside the circle of petrified agate-armadillos, Pangasutri took his place at the table, sitting down between Moto and Xandia with a dark look at the latter. Xandia remained outwardly calm at the hostility, though Inks could see Priscia worrying her lip over her shoulder.

"If you are called such things," he said, "it is an understandable consequence of trafficking with their kind. Speak your part; sun-witch."

"Perhaps _you_ should be more civil," snapped Etiyadi, fire flaring in her eyes as she bristled. "Especially in such a place as this, after arriving shamefully late!"

"Now now, children," Moto drawled. He was obviously enjoying himself immensely. "Behave. We still haven't seen how Pangy here is going to react to our handmaiden's plan for El Galabi, and I for one can't wait."

Humming thoughtfully, Inks smiled despite the tension across the table. She pushed her weapon back into the space between spaces, having served its purpose. That done she nodded. "Yes, let's continue-"

"Small wonder," Pipera's whisper breathed into Inks' ear, in tones of heavy sarcasm, "that the only thing these lords can agree on is standing as a block against outside forces like Gem. I'm beginning to be surprised even by that much alliance between them. The lines of alliance aren't favouring you right now - only Etiyadi is firmly on your side."

Thinking that Pangasutri wasn't one for courtly forms and posturing, she referred to the note thus far and summarized the topic. "I am preparing a campaign to retake El Galabi and cleanse it of the shadowland. I hope to them use El Galabi to enrich myself and this whole region. I represent the interests of Gem in this matter as well."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hah, good interjection from Pipera)  
> ST: ((She is a snarky, snarky woman.))  
> ST: ((Also, you may have guessed, but this is why the lords of the Coxati don't meet in person very much.))  
> ST: ((This is actually comparatively civil.))  
> Inks: (I figured)  
> 

  
  
"And what are the interests of Gem," he echoed back. "In this matter?" From the sound of it, he already knew, but wanted to hear it spoken.

"Specifically, Gem wants to secure El Galabi's use as a source of food. Which has the logical consequence of reducing Coxati's leverage against Gem's social, economic and military actions." She could imagine Pangasutri bristling at that.

"I." She amended. "Want to develop an arrangement that improves the balance of power in as many equitable ways as possible. I may not succeed, but I'm certainly going to try."

"I will require significant guarantees and benefits to endorse such a plan," Xandia put in; speaking up for the first time. "You may speak in good faith, Inks, and I'm sure all of us who have met with you trust your dedication to fair business." She accompanied that with a razor-sharp smile, and Inks genuinely couldn't tell whether the sentiment was genuine or some kind of subtle backhanded barb. "But Elemi Piercing Sun is not so kind, and I'm sure I speak for all of us when I raise fears at how well you can control him. All the equity and good intentions in the world will pay for nothing if the Sand Dragon turns his eyes towards our mountains as he did in decades past."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Hmm. Roll me Perception+Socialise at Diff 5, with a +3 external penalty, would you?))  
> ST: ((Reading something in Xandia's reaction, if you want to stunt.))  
> Inks: (Can't I use Sagacious Reading of Intent?)  
> ST: ((I mean, you can, but it won't pick up on what the roll is for.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, good to know. Stunting)  
> 

  
  
Xandia was always a tough read- Though if Inks were honest with herself (and she usually was), she could enjoy watching the other lord's face just on principle. She might not have been a match to Etiyadi's godblooded beauty but still~

Idle attraction aside, Inks noted the slant of the woman's brows, the way her court cosmetics evoked some cultural symbol that for the moment was opaque to Inks herself. The set of her chin- and more importantly, how Priscia fretted behind her lover's shoulder. The other woman was far less controlled.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted!)  
> ST: ((two dice; nice invocation of Priscia~))  
> Inks: (Gonna spend 10m on 2nd socialize, so 10d+stunt + 5 autosux -3 sux. I'll have spent about 33 motes so far this 'scene' out of 60 or so.)  
> Inks: (Rolled 5 sux, +5, minus 3, threshold 2)  
> 

  
  
There's a dark certainty to her voice as she says it - one mimicked by Pangasutri's clenched jaw at her mentor's name, and even Moto's pursed lips. But Pangasutri and Moto were _alive_ for Piercing Sun's raids on the eastern Coxati territories, so their reaction makes sense - they've both had firsthand experience of his raids.

By contrast, Xandia is in the same age group as Inks; she wasn't even born until after the fall of El Galabi and the fading of Piercing Sun's glory days. And yet, the _certainty_ in her voice, contrasted with Etiyadi's reaction as someone who's heard horror stories but never seen their fallout... it's odd, Inks can't help but think. Not necessarily suspicious or hostile to Inks' interests here, but... a detail that doesn't fit.  
  


>   
> Inks: (... I feel like Dragon Kings are relevant here)  
> ST: ((:3))  
> Inks: (Anyway)  
> ST: ((They _do_ have those legends about how the Xand is the living reincarnation of the one before them, despite how the birthdates don't match up at all. The "spirit of the Xand chooses from among the Xand's successors" and all.))  
> 

  
  
Inks nodded. "I one-hundred percent agree with all of you. Elemi Piercing Sun is a jingoistic warhawk with a very specific set of personality tools and traits that he uses to perceive the world."

"In a very real sense, he is a general with an aribtrary loyalty- not a mercenary at all, but in the sense that he could have been anyone's Dragon of the Burning Sands. He just ended up in Gem."

"In many ways, he is grooming me to be his replacement, to at the very least maintain his legacy in Gem if not improve it. I have little interest in arbitrary wars of conquest or military posturing, or his extreme politics."

She said this in a manner that suggested she considered 'warmongering' a particularly vulgar diplomatic action. "I already have one campaign I need to run. I do not want to start a second front when I don't need to."

"All of which is well and good," replied Xandia calmly. "But which doesn't change the fact that he remains a factor. Unless your campaign plans to remove him from the board, we must assume he will still be active afterwards - and may turn his eyes to El Galabi as a staging post towards Etiyadi's domain."

Etiyadi herself looked rather uncomfortable at that; her enthusiasm for Inks' proposal waning. "Much as I hate to admit it, she has a point," she told Inks. "How will you stop him if he does as he used to, dear?"  
That was the question- because at that very moment, Inks didn't have an answer.

So she thought,and she thought hard. Piercing Sun held her in tennous esteem- as long as she kept impressing him, she would be his 'sun-girl' and worthy of his indulgence. The second she showed weakness, he would bowl all over her. As a mentor, he had no time for nuturing and debate. Even now this was likely going to be a test.

"The simplest solution is to give him a war he wants to fight more than this one." Inks declared. "That is to say, Coxati sticks in his craw as the one that he could not finish. That's not an answer, Saudari Etiyadi, Fire-in-Earth."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Ability to think of a potential solution?)  
> ST: ((Int+War, then.))  
> Inks: (8 + 8, no stunt?)  
> ST: ((2 dots))  
> Inks: (11 sux)  
> ST: ((Haha, wow. Nice.))  
> 

  
  
Even as she spoke, Inks was thinking. It was true that she didn't have an answer - but she did have options. Another war to fight would be the obvious one, but that was at most a stopgap solution that might, at best, be stretched out until Piercing Sun died from either age or violence. And it depended on an abundance of enemies - something she couldn't necessarily guarantee.

So, alternative ways to stop him declaring war on the Coxati at all. These were less palatable, sadly. Flat-out challenging him to a duel if he ever tried was an option, but one that would be a huge challenge to win the fight in the first place, and risk casting herself as a "traitor" even if she won. Likewise, offering to raise fortifications along the passes he might invade and recuse herself from such a war so he couldn't exploit her ability to lead troops over hostile ground would be taken badly by Gem. She _might_ be able to erode his support base in the Anam Way, but that was another big "maybe", and furthermore would take her attention way from her own projects.

Perhaps the simplest option would simply be to pledge a surety - to apply the same ideas of insurance that she was used to in trade to war damages, and commit to replacing or restoring any ruin Piercing Sun might inflict on the Coxati if he launched a campagin against them. There, the only cost would be getting them to believe she'd follow through on it - and risking an eye-watering and potentially crippling pay-out if she ever had to.

She'd fallen silent for a distressingly long time- an eternity in talks like this, but now she looked up and smiled. A glance to Pipera had a new sheet of paper provided, and now Inks was writing with both hands, albeit somewhat imperfectly. "My current plan- your input is welcome- is roughly as follows;"

She began drafting a contract, and Pipera's eyes lit up as more familiar ground started to take shape. The document in hand was not the final copy at all, more a pile of notes and references, with some hastily coded figures that let Inks guestimate how much she could afford to insure.

"To the matter of Elmei Piercing Sun and wars of conquest without cause-" Inks declared. "I am prepared to offer an agreement of reparations and surety against war damage. The exact values of which shall be negotiated, but this is my guarantee to you- that if I cannot persuade him otherwise, that Piercing Sun makes war on the Coxati, I will help restore what he brings to ruin."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so this is an _extremely non-trival cost_ , The minimum damage expected from a one-time hit-and-run raid by Piercing Sun into Coxati territory would be multiple villages and small towns to a small city - Res 6. More likely, he'd hit one of their more prosperous locations for Res 7 in damages - he wouldn't be carrying away that much, but the Cult of the Burning God would torch and wreck and kill as much as they took, and the population losses would have ongoing ramifications. Worst-case scenario; in the event of him taking a swipe at Etiyadi or Pangasutri's capital and burning the fields just before harvest, you're looking at an eye-watering Res _8_ payout. War reparations are not cheap.))
> 
> Inks: (I figured, but it shows how serious Inks is about this)
> 
> ST: ((Now, Inks can recoup some of that by playing the sorcerer card and basically working for them as an infrastructural sorceress for several Major actions, but this is still something that could very easily beggar her, bankrupt her businesses which make up a substantial part of Gem's industrial economy, force her to tap into House Iblan's treasury, or accomplish some combination of the three if it backfires.))  
> ST: ((So I'm making you explicitly aware of that before you choose this option.))
> 
> Inks: (Right, implicitly I'm planning on just making sure Piercing Sun doesn't go on a conquest binge, or if he does, keeps his conquering reasonable. My plan re: the actual agreement is to workshop the specific terms and penalties w/ Pipera doing her thing to make sure I don't get screwed over for false claims.)  
> ST: ((Of course, that second one might get Rankar yanking on the reins as well.))
> 
> ST: ((Yeah, I assumed you'd be planning to not have it come up at all. I'm just making sure you understand the potential game-space if that fails. This is a Big Risk Venture - which is totally a business _thing_ , but as a player you deserve to understand how Big a Risk Venture it is.))  
> Inks: (I appreciate that!)  
> Inks: (Aye. The fact is though, I'm in a lot better position as far as player agency to solve an infrastructural problem as I am a personality problem like Piercing Sun has)  
> ST: ((Well, yes. Heh. :P))  
> Inks: (Basically between Bureaucracy Charms and Sorcery...)
> 
> Inks: (In terms of thematic or character space, I really do like the duel option, so I may do that too, but I don't want to promise something I know I can't deliver. I/Inks _knows_ she can deliver an infrastructural solution)  
> 

  
  
Her proposal didn't appear to instantly win the assembled lords over to the side of trust and certainty, but the contract and her terms got some considering looks, and Etiyadi at least seemed to be taking her seriously. Xandia didn't look particularly concerned either - or rather, her concern was more for what an attack would do to the Coxati as a whole; her own lands being sheltered from easy access.

Regardless, before she could do anything else to pitch her proposal, Moto clapped his hands and finally took his feet off the table, sitting up straight.

"Well, with that happy opening on how likely it is that the Sand Dragon will come to kill and plunder," he grinned without humour. "What exactly is it that you're offering, darling? Because so far I don't hear much reason for my esteemed fellow lords to just wall you off from the ghost-city and leave it as-is. Well," he added with a chuckle. "Pangy, anyway. I think we can all see what you're offering the saudari for this."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Oh Moto)  
> ST: ((I do have fun writing him. :3))  
> 

  
  
"Moto, sweetheart." Inks _grinned._ "I didn't mean for you to feel left out."

"I have to be honest- I don't want to promise much that El Galabi can provide, since I don't have it and don't know what I can do with it just yet. I can however offer a number of my talents and assets to the Coxati, under reasonable limitation as Court Sorcerer of Gem."

"Logically I have to walk that line of helping Gem more than helping you, but I _want_ to help. Myself, Gem, the Coxati states and their peoples. El Galabi gives me a solid infrastructural base to work from that I can then direct all kinds of useful talents and resources in multiple directions- But again, promises of an unknown asset."

"I am a sorcerer, and a Chosen of the Unconquered Sun. I am am a skilled doctor, articifer and engineer. I am cultivating numerous allies across the Great Houses of Gem as well, who I would be happy to serve as intermediary for your collective interests."

She looked at each of the gathered lords, Moto, Xandia, Etiyadi, BLueswell and Pangasutri. "Part of this meeting is to develop what we all want, as much as what we all need."

Blueswell raised his hands as if to push the offer away when her eyes fell on him. "No no, please," he smiled. "I am only the one who is here to watch. I cannot speak for my lords. But a child of the sun will always be welcome in our lands, yes yes." Again he gave that beaming smile, folding his arms behind him and rocking back on his heels with a hum.

Pangasutri, by contrast, immediately scowled, overriding Etiyadi and Moto's attempts to speak. "The spirits have no place or right to intervene in mortal affairs," he intoned, and Inks heard the conviction slamming into place behind his words. "If the sun has chosen you, then the sun has overstepped her bounds. Her place is to light the skies; not to meddle." His blindfolded eyes turned to Etiyadi meaningfully. "Or to rule."

"I admit I haven't ever really spoken with the sun or heard any of her directives if any." Inks offered. "I mean, I'd be interested in learning more."

"Oh, don't listen to him," Etiyadi huffed. "Honestly! Of course we spiritborn have the right to rule. We're simply better at it. No matter," she sniffed, looking down her nose at Xandia and Pangasutri, "how lesser mortals might try to claw their way up to mimic us."

"Arrogance is the foremost trait of corrupt gods," Pangasutri stated flatly. "I tolerate you for the moment, woman, but do not think for a moment that I must."

Inks winced inwardly. There was no give to his statement; no compromise. He had his view of how the world worked, and whenever he came up against someone who disagreed... he ignored them. It was as simple as that. And apparently, one of his views on how the world worked was that - yes, she remembered Etiyadi complaining about this now - he didn't think spirits should intervene with the affairs of mortals. And apparently he was counting the Exalted as such, because of how the Coxati thought of her as a daughter of the sun.

This, Inks couldn't help but conclude, was probably going to be a problem. _On the other hand_ , she had the good fortune to be standing next to Etiyadi Fire-in-Earth as a point of comparison, against whom it was almost impossible to come off unfavourably in terms of spirit-born arrogance.

... of course, on the _other_ other hand, she was _allied_ with Etiyadi; part of the same side. Hmm. And while Moto seemed to have no real stake in things and was mostly here to snipe at people; Xandia was still being fairly quiet as to where her thoughts lay.

With the bickering starting in earnest, Inks considered her approach. This... whole day could have gone better, but it was hardly going badly either. No one was screaming at her and most of the barbs were civil if pointed and acerbic. She could work with that.

Mulling to herself, she had to identify her goals and the levers to reach them- a campaign against El Galabi, either supported or at least unhindered. An agreement the lords would accept and that would not ruin her political position in Gem, and to manage Piercing Sun...  
  


>   
> ST: ((Per+Socialise to decrypt exactly who feels what about which subject and where the positions lie. Diff 3, +3 external penalty from how they're all bickering, guarding their thoughts, deliberately stirring the pot or (in Moto's case) all three.))  
> 

  
  
Opening the window on her brow, Inks drew in a deep breath of fortifying Essence and considered the problem.  
  


>   
> Inks: (2m castemark mode)  
> Inks: (rolling 10d +3 autosux. Hovering around 15 left)  
> Inks: (Rolled 3 sux, threshold 0)  
> Inks: (Would Mastery of Small Manners have applied?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> Inks: (I'll use that too then, for 3m)  
> ST: ((That gives a +3 bonus.))  
> ST: ((autosux, not dice))  
> Inks: (Neat, so threshold 3)  
> 

  
  
As one, every martial artist in Pangasutri's entourage shifted into a combat position. So perfect was their coordination that it sounded like a single, resounding stamp that echoed off the walls of the canyon. Pangasutri himself stiffened, leaning back from Inks as though she was throwing off heat like a bonfire, and Xandia's eyes sharpened.

In the abrupt silence, Inks caught Pipera's very quiet groan behind her.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, nobody's attacking yet, but Inks just put Pangasutri's people on edge by flaring her power for something subtle and unknown while tempers were already hot.))  
> Inks: (I figured)  
> 

  
  
"I apologize." Inks offered the group a dissarming grin. "If you all prefer, I'll excuse myself. I just needed to... stretch myself, as it were."

"I think we might all be well-served by a break," offered Xandia. "Lord White-Eyes is no doubt weary from travel, Lady Inks has... business of her own, it seems. And it is clear nothing further will be achieved today."  
"I was about to suggest the same." Inks inclined her head with a grateful look. "Shall we reconvene tommorow?" There was no unanimous agreement on the exact time, but Inks was confident they all were at least willing to meet again, sometime.

* * *

With a variety of mutters - some surlier than others - the group dispersed, back to their separate encampments within the Dove's Nest. Xandia no doubt had ulterior motives for calling a halt now - probably buying herself some time to scheme now that she knew what Inks' aim was. Well, let her.

Inks stayed sitting in the heart of the demesne while she assessed what she'd learned. To start from the easiest of the visitors; Blueswell was, as he said, just here to watch. Akna wasn't currently selling Gem anything, and Piercing Sun couldn't possibly threaten his deep, southern-central territories without taking the entire mountain range. He was curious as to the outcome, nothing more.

Next up, and similarly uninvolved - Moto. Again, he didn't really supply Gem with anything, and while he was at more risk from Piercing Sun - and had seen the old warlord's handiwork firsthand - the easiest way into Moto's lands was up the Cahzor valley. Not even Piercing Sun could march an army through that without getting bogged down in a fight. And in the decades since his last campagin, Moto had no doubt improved the defences on the   
passes into his land. No, he was just here for an opportunity to snipe - and to scope out what Inks thought she might get out of the Dead city, which he had seen in its heyday.

That left the three lords who actually had a serious stake in things.

"You have Etiyadi," said Pipera, moving around to take the Xandia's place on the opposite side of the table and keeping her voice relatively low so as not to carry. "She wants you - no, not like that," she glared at Vahti. "She wants your scholars and your sorcery. She's scared of Piercing Sun, and she's wavering at the moment, but your insurance will win her back over by the end of the day. That's good - she's the only one here who can oppose your efforts both militarily and economically."

Nodding, Inks let out a gusty sigh. "Small favors. Pangasutri is going to be the hard case, and while I have credit with Xandia, she's not simply going to take my word- she's going to ask for the best deal she can."  
She hummed, mulling. "It'd be theoretically possible to get Moto on side, if I could give him what he wanted... and Pangasutri."  
  


>   
> Inks: (can I do Soul's Price on Moto and Pangasutri?)  
> ST: ((You can.))  
> Inks: (So what penalty am I rolling against for both?)  
> ST: ((For Moto, -4 external penalty. For Pangasutri, -2.))  
> Inks: (rolling 13d each)  
> Inks: (10 sux for moto)  
> Inks: (9 sux for Pangasutri)  
> ST: ((Moto will be loyal to a boss who makes him feel indispensable, gives him pretty free leeway on what he does with his time, and makes no effort to stop him from needling anyone he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants.))  
> Inks: (Lulz)  
> ST: ((Pangasutri has a vision (hurr hurr) of How The World Should Be. He'll follow anyone who holds the same view and is better at enforcing it than he is, and never doubt or waver.))  
> 

  
  
Pipera tipped her head to one side. "Moto could be useful, but fundamentally this isn't about getting help _with_ El Galabi. It's about removing obstacles _to_ it. Etiyadi and Xandia are feeding Gem at the moment - if they don't like your goals, they can cut off the food shipments and force you to stop. Pangasutri and Etiyadi both have access to El Galabi and military forces - they can commit their armies to stop yours from assaulting the Dead there. You need all three of them to agree to _not_ impede you."

"I meant useful in the sense of 'helping me with the agree not to impede' part." Inks clarified. "But continue, of course."

Pipera's point was all very well and good, was the thing. Except unfortunately, Xandia and Pangasutri's positions were almost diametrically opposed. Xandia wanted a coalition. She wanted the Coxati united against outside threats; prosperous and independent. She actually didn't care all that much about the Dead in El Galabi as it was, and Inks knew she'd jump at sun-scholars as quickly if not quicker than Etiyadi had, though alas, probably not as sexily.

But she wasn't at all happy about giving up leverage over Gem. She'd already proposed the building of a couple of Coxati forts along the trade route from El Galabi to Gem should Inks' scheme go through - forts which were transparent ways to cut off the food supply by military blockade, even if she'd phrased it as Etiyadi helping guard and resupply the caravans.

Whereas Pangasutri... urgh. Inks knew she could be stubborn sometimes. That she had a bad habit of projecting her worldview on other people. That she sometimes forgot to take into account how others saw the world differently.

But at least she tried. Pangasutri White-Eyes just didn't _care_ about any of that. He was as blind as his sobriquet to any position that wasn't his own. And that position, unfortunately, did not approve of spirits taking part in how mortals ran their lives. Spirit-born like Etiyadi, sun-blessed like Inks... they were against the natural order as he saw it. His was a world where spirits worked to ensure the health and working of the   
land, and those who knew the land could... perhaps not 'master' it. But make pacts with it. From the way the wildlife responded to him; he had some power behind his beliefs, too.

The plus side of that was that El Galabi's status as a Dead city made it as much an abomination to him as a city crawling with demons. He'd want it cleared, oh yes. But sun-scholars all over the Coxati territories? No. He was territorial even to other mortals - he'd maimed people for trespass, she'd heard. Sun-taught foreigners coming in with the backing of a spirit-daughter like Inks would be - hah - anathema to him.

Curiously, he seemed less bothered about the threat of Piercing Sun than Etiyadi or Xandia. Maybe that was just because his domain was high in the mountains, with few natural passes leading into it and his many trained martial artists. Or maybe he almost _wanted_ Piercing Sun to try his luck - he refused to acknowledge Moto's barbs, but he didn't look favourably on Pipera, so it might be that Dragonblooded were also corrupt interventions by the spirits in his view. Maybe he secretly craved the opportunity to put paid to the ancient fire-aspect warlord who'd ravaged the Coxati in decades past.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmmmmm)  
> Inks: (I can't help but wonder if Pangasutri is mortal at the moment, depending on the nature of his boons and pacts, but that's an idle thought)  
> 

  
  
"Okay..." She produced the sheet of notes regarding the surety contract and reparations agreement. "We'll need to go over this and make sure its ironclad, so no one can rip eachother apart with some sneaky clause." That was hardly as important as solving the core problem...

"We'll have to... No. I don't want to talk here." Inks nodded and stood up from the table. "Pangasutri seems to be the type to have listening ears, and I imagine Moto is in his own way as clever as you." Gathering her supplies, she led Pipera and Vahti back to their shared rooms in the Dove's Nest.

Vahti threw herself on the bed as Inks and Pipera got settled, huffing out a sigh. "So, what?" she asked. "He's got some kinda nature shtick going on? Friend to all animals and sensing weird things that don't belong here like demons?" She wrinkled her nose. "I'd think someone who was all about that natural crap would be less of a stuck-up prick."

Not immediately answering, Inks paced the room and with her will, warded it against prying ears and senses. "He's welcome to his opinion and those of his followers- though I have to wonder how he managed to secure so much power while claiming 'mortality'."

"But 'friend to all animals' was exactly why I wanted to ward this space- so I think the immediate goal is that we need to get ahead of whatever Xandia's price is going to be- offer her something rich and kingly that cuts the legs out of what she'd request herself- and would preferably be cheap for me to provide like sun-trained scholars."

"As for Pangasutri, the ideal case is figuring out how to square the campaign with his worldview. I'm not against getting into a fight with _one_ Coxati lord, if the others aren't going to join in."  
"We may have to resort to that..." Pipera muses. "Piercing Sun said Pangasutri may have sent those assassins, did he not? Having seen him, I wouldn't be surprised. You were a known demonologist at that point - it was one of your better-known traits, even if the rumours have started to fade into memory with the shutting down of your heptaizon facility."

"Right. Something I had wanted to ask him about as well. Well, 'Ask'." Inks grinned despite herself. "Of course, Piercing Sun may have said that just to put me on the path to starting a fight for his own amusement."  
"That's _totally something he would do_ ," agreed Vahti fervently, kicking her legs up in the air. "So, boss. What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Re-read the room, get a better handle on who wants what. Start acting rather than reacting." Sinking in to the brief meditative state to fork her trains of thought, Inks considered.  
She had a hunch- it'd be something more significant in terms of investment, but it might help Xandia and be more or less valuable than whatever she'd acutally want- Xandia's domain was full of shogunate structures, dams specifically. She wondered as to their specific function... and their value.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Craft? to guestimate what those shogunate structures are/can do, and how valuable they'd be to Xandia)  
> ST: ((Are you using any charms?))  
> Inks: (Craft excellency is the only one I cna think of, unless Frugal Merchant can apply as 'Fixing the dams as Service')  
> ST: ((It would indeed!))  
> Inks: (THen using both)  
> Inks: (Diff/Stunt?)  
> ST: ((Okay, so, hmm. What exactly are you evaluating? The stuff you saw in Xandia's domain?))  
> Inks: (yes, just as a ballpark)  
> Inks: (Like, if I donn't have enough info, that'sfine, but it seems like a better angle to play thanjust wait for you to give me an answer?)  
> ST: ((Cool. Diff 5 to determine what it does, with a +4 internal penalty from it having been a really fucking long time since she saw most of it.))  
> Inks: (16 sux)  
> Inks: (on 16d)  
> ST: ((Nice~))  
> ST: ((:D))
> 
> ST: ((So, Inks can remember several bits and pieces she suspects were parts of the city design. Firstly, the city designs had extensive and advanced sewage and waste disposal infrastructure worked into them, as well as the road layout and design geomancy being optimized - probably by a Bureaucracy-focused DB over a period of years or decades - into the most efficient layout possible for connecting up living sectors, work sectors, etc, and enhancing productivity and transport. That design work isn't functioning very well nowadays because, of course, the city isn't as full as it was designed on the assumption that it would be, the work isn't all occurring in strictly designated zones, the transport being used along the streets is mostly "walking" instead of whatever the designer assumed would be used, etc... but it's still helping in ways like "everything is connected up as clearly and intuitively as can be designed by a superhuman genius spending decades on making it idiot-proof and optimising thoroughfares for what the most-travelled routes from section to section will be.))
> 
> ST: ((Designs like that would be helpful to Xandia for building more cities and for reshuffling the ones she has to get more benefits out of the pre-done architectural bonuses.))
> 
> ST: ((The dams, meanwhile, are a _fucking motherload_ that were made to provide motive power and to allow for blocking of the rivers. Where the city plans are worth Res 4-5 to Xandia, she'd be willing to shell out Res 6 for some of the major dams being repaired.))
> 
> ST: ((And since you succeeded so well, it will occur to Inks that the major dams being repaired would, for example, allow Xandia to go 'nope' and cut off most of the major running water routes to Pangasutri and Etiyadi, both of whom have most of their major rivers flowing through Xandia's territory.))
> 
> ST: ((This would Not Be Good For Them, and honestly be leverage very nearly as good as Coxati's food-based stranglehold over Gem.))
> 
> Inks: (Indeed, but since Etiyadi and Xandia are nominally aligned anyway, it's not really a huge deal either? Or it's less of one)  
> ST: ((Less of one, yes, but still potent leverage.))  
> 

  
  
"Alright-" Inks's eyes were bright and eager. "Pipera, help me polish this up. I don't want to propose it first thing, but I think it'll make a big enough impression on Xandia if I deliver it the right way-" She started to sketch out the rough idea of the dams and infrastructural boons- noting that she could likely improve them further or apply similar lessons to Gem and other settlements.

The important thing was to get her arguments and assets more firmly lined up in preparation for tomorrow- and to be ready to spike the counters of Xandia, Etiyadi and Pangasutri.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay. What charms are you activating?))  
> Inks: (Okay so my thinking is that the session is almost over, like, I don't think we're going to get to Day 2 of the talks this session, but to answer your question, Int+[Bur?], + Excellency, to start gathering Inks's research here into a proposal package for Xandia. Backed by Pipera.)  
> Inks: (Plus whatever rolls we need to make for the Surety agreement as well)  
> ST: ((Not going to reactivate UtC?))  
> Inks: (I'd have to wait a bit to refresh my motes, but I can. I figured I'd do that next session? Sorry, I'm not reading your cues very well right now I guess? Thanks for reminding me.)  
> Inks: (So if we assume that Inks take sthe time to refresh her motes (Vahti gives her a really nice massage), I can use UtC and 2nd socialize to rebuild the profile. Diff 1; external penalties?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Yeah, okay, we're both flagging here. Call a pause and we'll finish off the session tomorrow.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, sounds good!)
> 
> ST: Enjoyed so far?  
> Inks: yes!  
> Inks: It doesn't feel insoulable yet, but I am trying to think of ways to get more information out with the tools I have availible. That's on me mind you  
> Inks: I was a little worried the session was going to be talking heads, so we can work on that tomorrow/next time  
> Inks: Moto is fun as always, Pangasutri is an interesting foil, as is Xandia  
> Inks: did I play okay?  
> ST: Yup!  
> Inks: Huzzah!  
> ST: Heh. Good referencing of the other characters there in some of your stunts - Priscia, fr'z.  
> Inks: yeah I thought so  
> ST: With any scene with that many ST characters there's a risk of, y'know, walls of NPCs talking.  
> Inks: yeah totally  
> Inks: this is partially why social combat has tick timig?  
> Inks: to ensure that who talks when gets juggled up a bit  
> ST: Well yeah, but even then, it's just a "ten NPCs to one PC" thing.  
> Inks: yeah  
> Inks: Still you're handling it well!  
> ST: ^_^  
> ST: until tomorrow, then!  
> 

  
  


* * *

Before she addressed tomorrow, however, she had the rest of today left. And while there was still time, it was worth getting Xandia firmly on her side for the next round of talks to come.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Alright, based on our pre-game conversation, it occurs that I should use Evidence Discerning Method on Xandia, since I'll be dealing with her in private. I won't need to spin up a temp style either for a smaller scale meeting either. Thunderminded Tycoon should work.)  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> ST: ((So, who's Inks taking with her?))  
> Inks: (Pipera, probably, writing the EDM stunt with a dash of Vahti)  
> 

  
  
Vahti was more than capable of delivering a message with reasonable decorum- though after having given Inks a thurough backrub, she demanded one in repayment after the talks were done. That left Inks and Pipera to do a quick rundown of Xandia's traits as a person and leader.

Inks: Competent, with an eye on the long view. The concept of the reincarnating Xand seemed to imply that even with a normal lifespan, Xandia could afford to think big. That she was brilliant, insightful, all the moreso. Her relationship with Priscila, under the lordly mask, added a warming element to the normally austere persona she cultivated.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So that's just the EDM roll, to negate external penalties on Xandia specifically. Per+Invest, Diff 1; I request stunt bonus and external penalty?)  
> ST: ((-4 penalty. +2 stunt.))  
> Inks: (Gonna throw down 2nd investigation as well for +4 sux then. I was running caste mark last session, so I should have enough)  
> Inks: !ex 14; Inks: [8, 5, 10, 10, 9, 5, 7, 2, 7, 7, 10, 7, 6, 9] was rolled for 13 successes.  
> Inks: (Diiiiiiice)  
> Inks: (Sadly I don't need THAT many sux on this roll! But Yes, I now negate 4sux of penalties until the profile becomes invalid)  
> ST: ((Hee. And because you got a legendary success, Inks also notices - again - that Xandia is _weirdly hard to get a read on_ , Not just good at veiling her intentions, but _unusually_ so. More than she should be able to be.))  
> Inks: (...Mask artifact?)  
> Inks: (it'd be a cheap as get out way to justify her makeup culture)  
> ST: ((*hums happily*))  
> ST: ((Anyway. Taking Pipera. Not Maji or Vahti?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... I was going to say keep the NPCs down, but it occurs to me that just inviting Vahti along as a good 'work experience' is worthwhile. So yeah, bringing them all- and heh, Inks presses her cleansing Gem onto both of them before leaving, so Maji is all FLWOOF clean.)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Xandia's guards did not look surprised to see Inks when she, Pipera, Vahti and Maji arrived at the Dove's Nest tower the Xand was using for her residence while here. There were some wary looks at the giant tiger as they approached, some quiet muttering... and then the spear-toting warriors parted before Inks could even get a word out.  
"Third floor," the leader of them told her. "You're expected."

Favoring the guard with winsome smile- the kind that warmed hearts and cheeks, Inks nodded. Her party moved through the re-furnished space, and she could see where her sorcerous work had been polished over. Xand's decor hewed more towards the sophisicated rustic, with furs and hunting tropies turned to useful practical ends. Maji looked on forlornly at a great many beasts he had no involvement in catching.

A few more sentries herded the group onward to a larger room blocked by a rune-scribed curtain, and at a glance Inks could tell it was both a blessing of peace and clearminded-ness... and against eavesdropping. She pushed through with a gentle hand, Vahti and Pipera close behind.

Xandia was waiting; facepaint made up in a new design - curving lines down her cheeks and a colour combination that Inks vaguely recognised as being... something like negotiation-with-ally? No, not quite ally, but tentative-ally... well, it was something that was probably tailored for how Xandia saw her, Inks, specifically.

The Xand was in her antler-throne, legs crossed, Priscia sitting crosslegged beside it on a pile of furs surrounded by books. When Inks came in, she got smiles from both of them - beaming and happy from Priscia, amused and faintly smug from Xandia.

"Right on time," Xandia said. "Give or take half a candlemark. Please, sit down. I'll have wine brought out."

 

Grinning broadly, Inks did so, settling down amidst the somewhat ad-hoc nest of furs and cushions. It was far from the silken comforts she was used to, but hardly displeasing. Vahti plucked up a pillow wrapped in the soft fur of a Coxati mountain hare and hugged it to her chest with a silent squeal.

Pipera and Maji were by far the most professional, the former by nature and the latter by regal disinterest in the proceedings. The wine was delivered not in crystal flutes, but in individual clay goblets painted with runes and wrapped in leather and bone for grip.

at Ink's questioning look, Xandia nodded, and the Twilight and Flame Duck pulled the stoppers on theirs at the same time. "Nice."

"Your praise is appreciated," Xandia said, leaning back in her carved wooden throne. "So. You come to me on the evening of the first day of talks, having won over only Etiyadi to your cause - and even she may be reconsidering, given the threat of the Sand Dragon. What glowing offer do you have for me to try and convince me to change my mind and support your bid that the other lords shouldn't hear?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((I was gonna have her expecting a visit literally just on that logic. :P))  
> Inks: (Hehehe)  
> 

  
  
Taking a delicate sip- the wine was _potent_ , Inks grinned. "Would functioning Shogunate dams and an architectural audit of your territory be of interest?"

Xandia tilted her head. "That... would depend," she mused. "How many dams, and what kind of audit?"

"Well I don't rightly know how many dams are in your region, for one, but I can safely say that my involvement in their restoration is something I can provide independent of actually securing El Galabi. That is to say, I don't _need_ the territory to offer this." She grinned again.

"The audit, specifically would entail examining the various Shogunate enhancements that dot your territory and collating them into something you can start implementing on your own." Inks took another sip. "You already have a long-view plan in mind, and Shogunate styles tend to be built around five and ten-year cyclical upgrade schedules."

"Hmm." Xandia mulled on that for a moment, and then - surprisingly - turned to Priscia. "Your thoughts, archivist?"

Inks didn't miss the reserve she spoke with - a distinct separation between Priscia's relationship with Xandia's and her professional role, it seemed. She also didn't miss the way the frail woman she'd saved brightened up and drew scholarly authority around herself like a shroud as she sorted through one of the books at her side.

"Right," she said. "Yes. According to the records and my numbers, we're getting about..." she paged through briefly, "... three parts in twenty, roughly, of the use the Earth-Four-Green pattern is rated at. We could use some help there - we need to get five-in-twenty before we can make a serious attempt at, uh..." She glanced at Inks and Pipera. "Our Descending-Wood plans."

Xandia nodded, absorbing that, and Priscia paged through the book some more. "Regarding the dams... there are fifteen rated 'strategic', of which four are 'functional', six are 'damaged' and five are 'destroyed'. Two of the damaged ones are stamped 'white' and a third is stamped 'red'. We could really use repairs to all three." She paused. "The other three are brown-blue-red, but the red one isn't what I'd call a good investment for limited time."

Code words and doubletalk. As befitting a head of state. Inks considered what she knew, and how to leverage it.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can roll Wits+Lore to sneakily try and decipher some of the code there - or Int, if she does it with another thought train and talks before she's worked it out.))  
> ST: ((Diff 2.))  
> Inks: (I'll do the split thought trick, thanks)  
> ST: ((That said, you have the raw numbers - they need efficiency boosts of about 10% in one of their city patterns, and want at least three damaged dams repaired.))  
> 

  
  
Forking her train of thought to tackle the problem and speak her mind, Inks hummed. "In terms of logistics, this is a significant undertaking of time and labor. All of which will take further time to arrange."  
She let that statement hang in the air while her other mental thread wrapped around the code words and Priscia's demeanor.  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 12 "Int+Lore +2 stunt"; Inks: [7, 4, 2, 8, 6, 3, 8, 4, 5, 4, 7, 9] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

  
  
"Of course," Xandia said. "And no doubt you would be reluctant to move onto it immediately after taking El Galabi, rather than focusing on whatever projects you've been preparing for with your newfound wealth." Her smirk was razor-edged. Apparently news of Inks' new family had reached this far - that, or the Coxati had spies in Gem. "Should it impact your planning, I will note that using mass demon labour to repair them... I will not draw blades over the thought, but I would be reluctant to get into another war with Pangasutri over it. And hundreds of demons swarming my dams to cut off his rivers would give him the motivation to charge clean through Etiyadi's lands to get to me - if indeed she didn't join in."

"I was likely assuming minimum demon labor-" She tacitly did not mention her ability to call Elementals now. "Which means taking the time to raise and train a citizen labor force and transport them to the work sites."  
"And you are correct in that I would appreciate the time to enjoy my successes before committing to such a grand project, but I consider it worthwhile nonetheless."

"Mmm," Xandia hummed. A corner of Inks' mind was still tugging on the threads of code she and Priscia had traded, but the rest of her thought, perhaps, that Xandia might be looking... satisfied?

"Well then," the mountain-lord said. "Why don't we skip to the end here. What are _you_ getting out of El Galabi, Inks? Not food, not a staging post to attack, not the elimination of the Dead - those are all the goals of others that you're playing to. What is it you think you're going to produce there? What have you offered Etiyadi that won her over so thoroughly? What do you expect to _do_ with the city, once you have it?"

She tilted her head. "An industrial center was my first thought... but the old man who built it never attempted anything of that sort, and there are no ore deposits nearby. Hauling the raw materials up there from the lowlands would be ruinously inefficient, and even if you imported it from Akna..." She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. If you wanted an industrial powerhouse you'd do it down in Gem. And it's not just the benefits you'll get by satisfying others with it, either. You think you can make something there, or do something there - some export it's rife with that nobody else knows about." She leaned forward, eyes keen. "Tell me that, Inks, and we can discuss your schedule for fixing my dams."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay, thinking OOC)  
> Inks: (So as far as I have learned over the course of the game, El Galabi can produce food and is a Solar Manse, the latter of which is the most important to Inks. Fundamentally though once Inks claims El Galabi, she takes over the leverage Coxati had over Gem via food exports.)  
> Inks: (And likely becomes the trading hub from Coxati into Gem anyway)  
> ST: ((Yup. And Inks also intends to produce solar scholars there.))  
> Inks: (Right)  
> 

  
  
Inks was quiet for a long moment, holding the tumbler of wine close to her mouth but not yet taking a sip.

"It is a place of power, aligned with that of the Sun and by extension myself." She finally declared. "The terrain, it's proportion and flow of Essence are all of fantastic use to me and my goals as a sorcerer and artificer."

"You are correct in that it would be ill suited as an industrial center, but as a _workshop_ , a retreat in which I can build great things, to train masters of art and science, to protect them from predation both physical and economic..."

"Well, I may as well be blunt." Inks took a hefty swig and grinned at Xandia and Priscia. The professional mask slipped away to show more of her irreverent, playful and sexy attiude show. "I'm going to be the next Despot. I'm not sure when, but I will be- and El Galabi is another stone in the foundation of that goal. "

Xandia sat on that for a moment, thinking hard. "Leverage, then," she murmured. "You want what's currently ours to be yours. And," she smirked. "The monks. You can produce monks like he did, can't you? Trained scholars. The old man built his temple there to help him teach."

She drummed her fingers on the armrest of her throne, casually disregarding the _rather important tidbit_ she just dropped.

"Alright," she decided eventually. "Three years. Three years to repair three dams, and you'll dedicate... one part in three of the scholars you train to supervise and work on the project for me - drawn from my lands, and returning there after they're taught. For the survey, Priscia will share what notes she deems fit with you for a preliminary evaluation, and you'll commit to touring my lands under supervision within those three years   
for a more in-depth review. And," she added, "we'll agree these terms under one of your aide's contracts. The kind that hurt those who don't follow through."

"And in return?" Pipera was quick to put in. "Full support for the elimination of El Galabi?"

"That, and I'll also advise you on how to keep Pangasutri from interfering," Xandia offered. " _After_ the contract is signed."  
  


>   
> Inks: (So she didn't react to Inks's ambitions? )  
> ST: ((She already half-suspected them from her earlier visit. :P))  
> Inks: (Logical)  
> 

  
  
"Three years." Inks hummed. A significant investment of her time and attention, but very doable. And it wasn't like she couldn't do things faster. And that would put her in a better position to ask for more backing when Xandia wanted the rest of her infrastructure fixed.

"I feel safe in assuming we can negotiate a certain flexibility so long as the commitment itself is sacrosanct." Inks noted. "Shall we get down to the particulars?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((So that's a deadline of three years, and a tariff of one student in three being from Xandia's lands - which, yes, does give Inks influence in Xandia's territories in a decade's time.))  
> Inks: (While I'm at it, Soul's Price on Xandia?)  
> Inks: (Oh! Okay, deadline, not time commitment. Xandia is asking Inks to fix 3 dams within 3 years, not 'spend 1 year fixing 1 dam, until 3 dams are fixed)  
> ST: ((Yes. So basically, Xandia's asking for the three dams she wants fixed to _be_ fixed within three years. She's fine with Inks teaching for the first two years and then fixing all three in the third - it's a three-year deadline for the completion, not the start. She's giving flexibility for Inks to do some of her own stuff first.))  
> Inks: (I getcha)  
> ST: ((And also the student-tariff, where she's assuming one third of the students will be Etiyadi's, another third will be Inks', and the last third will be hers.))  
> Inks: (Neat)  
> ST: ((And that Moto and Pangasutri both get a great big middle finger.))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> Inks: (Gotcha! Soul's price penalty please?)  
> ST: ((Xandia's Price is help in making an independent, unified Coxati coalition - specifically, help she can't just provide herself, and with the same rider on "independent" as Asenya had. She'll be a loyal _ally_ as long as those conditions are met, but making the Coxati subservient to a foreign power would violate her price.))  
> Inks: (gotcha)  
> ST: ((Okay, roll Int+Bur for cooperative working out details, as you did with the Etiyadi-Xandia treaty.))  
> Inks: (Stunting!)  
> Inks: (.... Oh gods I just had an idea re: OMTT; I don't know if it should allow it by default, but it could allow Full Teamwork Bonuses?)  
> Inks: (As in, making 2+ rolls applied to the same pool)  
> ST: ((Ehhhhhhnnnnnn... talk about it later.))  
> Inks: (Agreed, still gonna use it in my stunt though)  
> ST: ((Oh hang on, let me give you the results for your decoding roll first.))  
> Inks: (thanks)  
> ST: ((I'll give you them OOC and you can work them into your stunt. So, the Earth-Four-Green pattern is obviously a Shogunate city pattern, which Inks deduces are coded by [Element]-[Number]-[Colour], though what exactly those mean, she can't guess with so little information. Priscia obviously has Shogunate texts saying what kind of efficiency and production they _should_ be capable of, which they're currently at about 15% of - they need 25% for whatever Xandia wants to do.))
> 
>  
> 
> ST: ((As to the dams, there are fifteen strategic ones in various states of intact, damaged and destroyed. The colours, Inks guesses, are _where they go_ \- or rather, who they're strategic against. By that logic, "white" would undoubtedly be Pangasutri, "red" is probably Etiyadi - hence why they want those ones - "blue" might be Akna and "brown" is either Moto or one of the states west of Xandia - probably not Eztli, since that would   
> presumably be "silver", or maybe "grey".))
> 
> ST: ((So she has two damaged dams that will impact Pangasutri if she shuts off the river, two which will hit Etiyadi (one of which Priscia doesn't consider strategic enough to try and get fixed), one that will probably give her leverage over Akna, and a sixth that will affect who knows. Plus four intact ones which it's unclear where they go.))
> 
> ST: ((Pipera's roll for the bureaucracying is 4+5+3 Hidden Depths Accountancy+8 ExD=20.))  
> 

  
  
Lamenting her inability to speak to two or more people at once clearly, Inks still ran her mind in parallel, able to work the problem from multiple angles and test out clauses in her head before writing them down for Pipera to in turn refine. Xandia and Priscia were engaged as well- a low table had been brought out to let the four of them put their heads together.

Vahti for her part looked on, a bit befuddled and bored at first, until Inks started explaining things as she went. Maps had been pulled out as well, and Inks noted the somewhat chagrined look on both Xandian women as she rightly marked out the courses of the rivers from memory and context.

"Considering how Pangasutri has been treating all of us, I don't have any problems whatsoever giving you a stronger hold on him- so long as we're circumspect about it." Inks tapped the 'white' dams with a smirk. I'd rather not alienate Etiyadi by giving you more authority over her either without some kind of understanding built up between you two."

She held up a hand to forestall Xandia's counter. "I'm not at all against you having more leverage, just that I'd prefer it be staggered as not to disrupt the talks right now or make things harder in the future."  
Vahti raised a tentative hand, and slowly the group looked to the green-skinned spirit. "Uhmm... Uh. Wouldn't all of this do a lot of... stuff to the flows of Essence around here too? I mean, moving all that earth, water?"

Inks nodded, as did Xandia. "It would- so we should keep that in mind when we actually go about repairing things. A geomantic survey is something I could easily weave in during the architectural audit."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted int+bur, bonus?)  
> ST: ((3 dice for calling out that elemental bit. :D))  
> Inks: (Gonna channel Conviction cause this is in line with Inks's Motivation, so 10 + 1st bur +3 +5)  
> Inks: !ex 28; Inks: [9, 4, 3, 10, 9, 1, 1, 7, 5, 9, 3, 3, 10, 9, 1, 3, 3, 10, 1, 1, 10, 4, 9, 6, 10, 4, 2, 6] was rolled for 16 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 20 "Pipera"; Inks: [8, 3, 10, 9, 9, 10, 9, 3, 8, 9, 2, 10, 1, 1, 6, 3, 7, 4, 5, 3] was rolled for 13 successes.  
> 

  
  
"Stopping a river - or letting one loose - isn't something I'd do lightly," Xandia said. "But it's something I want as an option. I see no reason to mention it to her, but the red dam is something I won't compromise on. It's not just her I want leverage over."

Inks winced. She... well, she had thought of it, because she was a genius. But she hadn't fully considered the implications of _opening_ a dam with an entire lake behind it. With Shogunate dams like these, Xandia wouldn't just have the power to cut off rivers - she'd have the power to send devastating flash-floods downstream, too. Part of that would go through her own territory, so no doubt it truly wouldn't be something she'd do   
lightly... but a flood like that spilling over into a pass like the Giant's Fingers could wipe out an army. No wonder she wanted the red dam so badly. It was a way to cut off an army from Gem with nature's wrath.  
  


>   
> ST: ((And Xandia rolls 4+2+3 Style+5 Conviction+3 autosux=14.))  
> ST: !ex 14 +3; ST: [2, 5, 2, 6, 4, 5, 1, 8, 5, 1, 2, 3, 3, 6] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((what the fuck, xandia))  
> ST: ((Well, regardless, that _just_ barely squeaks past the threshold to get it all hashed out that night.))  
> ST: ((Obviously Priscia was distracting her. :P))  
> ST: ((Wrap up, and we can close the session.))  
> Inks: (Huh wait wait, sorry, I'm lost. Did we all roll to the same pool?)  
> Inks: (Like, was it a cooperative action and we were trying to get it done Quickly?)  
> ST: ((Yeah. Similar to last time - you recall when Inks was mediating the dispute between Etiyadi and Xandia?))  
> Inks: (Cause I was under the impression that whoever got the most sux would have the terms slanted in their favor. I mean it's fine either way, but it wasn't clear)  
> ST: ((Well, in this case it's kind of a "both get favoured", but yes, Inks and Pipera get some useful guarantees and a lot of leeway in how they go about repairing the dams and how much of the secret architectural stuff they're allowed to a) see and b) steal and use elsewhere.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha gotcha, sorry!)  
> ST: ((So, have Inks table her response there, and I can give you the Pangasutri advice.))  
> Inks: (Also I forgot 3 dice, from thunderminded tycoon)  
> Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [8, 10, 7] was rolled for 4 successes.  
> Inks: (what the fuck)  
> ST: ((haha, lol))  
> Inks: (So technically Inks rolled 20 sux above)  
> Inks: (Anyway, Writing!)  
> 

  
  
It was a novel experience to have Pipera openly verify a contract and imbue it with the penalty of pain on wilful defiance. Inks herself had penned the document herself with a rapid hand- Priscia was _envious_ , to say the least. Terms and clause, provisos and clarifications on exact responsibilities and duties. The document came together with blessed speed.

And then she made copies, exactly like the first for their records. Spaces along the side were marked for the relevant parties to sign and notarize, and with Pipera, Priscia and Vahti watching as witnesses, Inks and Xandia both signed.

"So!" Inks set the brush down and flopped back against Vahti with a sensual sprawl- the spirit let out a playful squeak and hugged her boss around the middle in response. "What's your Pangasutri advice?"

Priscia blew out a breath. "Well," she offered, "he's kind of a dick, if that helps. He hates Xandia 'cause of the war, he thinks the Yar-Yan are savages, he doesn't like Etiyadi or Akna because of 'spirits interfering in human affairs', and he despises Moto because... well..."

"Moto," Xandia put in. Priscia nodded.

"Yeah, that. He's like reverse-Moto - he doesn't really like anyone. But he's got the biggest army and the best troops, so he doesn't need to."

"That said," Xandia took over, with a fond smile at her lover and an eyeroll before growing serious again, "while his troops are skilled beyond mortal ability, they're still finite. Etiyadi chews on his northern border and hungers for the southeastern parts of her father's range; Akna protrudes into his western flank with devout sun-cultists and idol-worshipers. The Crimson Wall to the east cries out for soldiers to man, and his southern border is plagued by Yar-Yan raiders. Pangasutri is a mountain, but his troops are spread thin on every front. He can spare no more than a thousand to assail you - and that if Coxati stays calm and he bleeds his defenses almost to the bone."

She folded her hands together. "So. Speak to Etiyadi. Have her cluster forces in her southern territories, in the prominence just south of El Galabi. 'In case you should need support' will be your excuse - but should he launch an attack, she can take advantage of his weakness. I will pledge to keep my hand on the White Boar Dam - I won't release its waters, not over this, but I can cause him problems in the west by closing one of its   
gates for a month before your planned assault."

"And," she emphasized, "when you march on the Dead City, when you assemble your forces to take it. Make sure you march with no fewer than nine hundred. Etiyadi's posturing will force him to reinforce his northern border, and my drought will tax him further - but he may still be able to spare two to three hundred fighters, and three-to-one odds are not beyond them. Nine hundred trained fighters - skilled, blooded soldiers, not armed rabble. That is a force he will not attack, as long as you give him no ambush or easy battlefield. Fewer, and he may still lash out."  
  


>   
> ST: ((There's one of her five intact dams for you.))  
> 

  
  
That was the advice of kings and gods, and Inks's respect for Xandia as a leader ticked up more than a few notches. Pipera was also openly impressed, and Inks's retinue took down the advice on their own notes and plans. "I appreciate this."

Disentangling from Vahti, Inks stood and bowed with a grin. "Thank you both for your time. Until tomorrow, then?"

"Until tomorrow," agreed Xandia gravely. "Good luck."  
  


>   
> ST: ((End of session))
> 
> Inks: Nice  
> ST: ((5xp +1mxp +2Sxp))  
> Inks: I'm glad we did cut it in half  
> Inks: this bit was a lot better than the first half  
> ST: Yeah  
> ST: Found my groove a bit more.  
> Inks: I wasn't as obnoxiously tired, for one, and our descriptive stunting was leagues better  
> ST: Yeah.  
> Inks: Can't have em all be perfect  
> ST: alas, no  
> Inks: I'm still pretty on target with xandia's aesthetic?  
> ST: you liked Pangasutri and Xandia?  
> ST: Yup.  
> Inks: being lots of fur and trophies  
> Inks: I very much like them both  
> ST: :D  
> ST: xandia r a smart woman  
> Inks: Pangasutri is falling neatly into a niche of 'Enemy who is not evil'  
> Inks: like, I feel justified in being opposed to him, but he's not a 'No consequences badguy' either?  
> ST: Yes.  
> Inks: so I don't feel bad about GETTING ITO A FIGHT, or even starting one  
> Inks: but he's also not an all-or-nothing stupid fight either  
> Inks: like Xandia said, if I bring enough of a force, he won't attack  
> Inks: hopefully  
> ST: Hopefully. :P  
> ST: Heh. And you're starting to pick up on some hints about what lets Xandia play equal to "volcano godblooded" and "Earth-Aspect DB" and "whatever Pangasutri is", too.  
> ST: Her "thing".  
> Inks: yeah, I wanted to roll per+occult about her unreadableness actually, but I forgot at the alst minute  
> Inks: I did have one thing I wanted to mention but I'll bring up more in the postmortem  
> ST: Hmm? I'll wait for that, then.  
> 

  
  



	63. Chapter 63: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 6

Nighttime deep in the mountains was always an experience.

From their quarters in one of the towers of the Dove's Nest, Inks could smell the distant scent of rain, borne down from higher territories and mingling with the ferns and cerulean-blue crocuses that grew wild all over the demesne. The air wasn't still, and the agate-plate leaves filled the air with a constant low-level chiming as they tinkled against one another, intercut by the chittering of the armadillos. It was cool this high up; the season and the altitude combining to put a nip to the air that Inks could feel through her bindi.

In the dark evening sky over the Broken Egg, one star shone brighter than any other. A hint of blue touched the sparkling sapphire in the heavens as Venus smiled down on the place of power sacred to her.

While pretty in its own right, the main reason Inks was aware of this was because Vahti wasn't in bed like she usually was. Instead, she was sitting on the windowsill, legs swung out, looking thoughtfully up at the twinkling blue star with an uncommonly thoughtful expression.

Inks sat up herself, easing out of the bed not to disturb anyone else nearby. On bare feet she padded across the floor, until she came up behind Vahti and wrapped her arms around the elemental's middle. "Watcha thinking about?"

Vahti was silent for a while, taking the time to put her thoughts in order. Then...

"This is a Venus place, yeah?" she asked. "And your sexy clothes gem, that's a Venus thing too. Your baths. House Sahlak." She scratched her head. "A couple other things, I think? What's she..." she seemed to struggle for words for a moment, eventually settling on an awkward "... like?"

"Complex." Inks offered. "I'm no dedicated priest of the Five Maidens, but they're... expansive. I don't know everything."

Resting her chin on Vahti's shoulder, Inks guided the other woman's arm to point at the sky, and the brightest, twinkling blue dot. "That's her- or her star."

"I don't think we can see them all from here, but..." Inks started pointing out the constellations. The vault of the sky way a chill, not-quite-icy clear. "The Ewer, The Lovers, The Musician, The Peacock and The Pillar." 

"She's the Maiden of Serenity, but there's all _kinds_ of serenity. Not just love or sex or wealth- but she deals with those things. And their opposing aspects."

Vahti rubbed her head again. "I figured that was her, yeah," she said. "Y'know, blue, star, brighter in a Venus-place." She mulled over her thoughts for a moment. "I guess I was just thinking... like, I've been learning loads of sun-stuff from you. How to fight - how to think, too, but it's all kind of..." She gestured vaguely. "Attacky. Cutting through mysteries with brilliance, shining light on shadows." Her eyes lit up, and Inks groaned at the pun she could see coming. "It's all _piercing sun_ stuff, heheh," Vahti giggled, looking very proud of herself.

Her humour faded as she looked back up at the star, leaving her philosophical again. "But there's other stuff, too," she mused. "Being with you - not just the fun bed stuff; Pips said I keep you from freaking out and going prickly and way too intense by helping you let off your stress. Other stuff, too. This whole trip thing. Talking people round in Moto's city; that was fun." She gestured vaguely again. "People stuff. That's a Venus thing, right?"

"Yeah. And a bit of Mars if you want to be technical- but mostly Venus." While hardly cold herself, Inks shamelessly pressed herself more firmly against Vahti's back and held her close. The green-skinned woman was so delightfully warm.

"Are you feeling... how are you feeling?"

"I dunno," Vahti said frankly. "Curious, I guess?" She glanced back at Inks and nuzzled her head into Inks' collarbone. "I think... I think I'm gonna stargaze a bit longer, then come to bed. See if I can pick out those constellations you mentioned." She paused, coming to some internal decision. "And... when we get back home, maybe I could learn some more about her?"

"Mhmm..." Inks smiled, before catching Vahti in a slow, open kiss. She didn't quite pull away so much as speak against Vahti's lips, grinning wider. "I like that idea. But don't stay up too late, I'll be needing you tomorrow morning."

"Sure thing, boss," Vahti promised, returning the kiss. "Now go to bed, and I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

Morning dawned with a gentle drizzle of soft rain that put off the talks until lunchtime, giving Inks a free morning as the Coxati lords paced and plotted and planned in their respective campsites. Blueswell was nowhere in evidence, of course - Inks had picked up that he was apparently spending his nights in a nearby river that was more comfortable for him - but no doubt the rain had him delighted, wherever he was.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Nice! I really liked this whole scene)  
>  Inks: (So I'm going to get going on the stunts for my outlined plan, of 'Message Etiyadi', 'Roll UtC', 'Gather Banquet Ingredients' 'Research Menu' and lastly 'Diplomatic Lunch Talks')  
>  Inks: (that's basically 4 dramatic actions and then 'diplomatic talks' would be the scene after the current one, baring any events that pop up)  
>  ST: ((Yup. I assume by "message Etiyadi" you're sending her a physical message in Pipera-code.))  
>  Inks: (yes!)  
>  ST: ((In which case yeah, you can just have Vahti run it over.))  
> 

  
  
The rain was incredibly fortuitous. It gave Inks more _time_ , the ability to plan, prepare and provide.

Pipera was as always, sublime in her element. She'd demonstrated her cryptographic skill once or twice before, but now Inks had cause to use it. Condensing Xandia's suggestions into something that Inks would ask and offer- and that Eityadi would accept was simple enough. 'Marshal your troops here, under pretense of guarding against my forces or the dead.'

'If necessary' Inks dictated 'I'll raise a fortress or two for your troops before the assault.'

With the message encoded by Pipera's deft hand, Inks charged Vahti to deliver it and to do a bit of mingling (in that order), while Inks and Pipera put their heads together. They re-evaluated the court dynamic, now that Pangasutri was present and they'd taken his measure.

"Obstinate, narrow-minded, hidebound." Pipera said.

And Inks wrinkled her nose. "So me if I weren't nice. And a kind of sexy old man."

At Pipera's incredulous look, Inks raised her hands. "Hey! Did you see his arms? Muscles like steel cables! He at least takes care of himself, is all that I'm saying."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: (( _snrrk_ ))  
>  Inks: (So that's the Message and UtC action, any stunt?)  
>  ST: ((+2 stunt, same -3 penalty from Mot-I mean "persons unknown" being a dick. Go for it.))  
>  Inks: (Invoking Pipera as aide, also adds Essence as bonus dice, so.. let's not do the excellency, but I will spend a WP. So 10 +7d)  
>  Inks: !ex 17 -3;[5, 10, 9, 3, 10, 9, 3, 5, 2, 10, 10, 4, 10, 6, 6, 10, 2] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Inks _totally groks_ the dynamics of this court.))  
>  Inks: (So I negate -4 successes worth of penalty on subsequent rolls)  
>  ST: (("Oh gods," she says. "It's a fucking kindergarten, and everyone's on the verge of a tantrum."))  
>  Inks: (Does the Etiyadi message need any roll?)  
>  ST: ((Nope. You're in good with Etiyadi, and... look, you're "convincing" her to flex her military muscle, get a couple of new forts on her southern border, piss off Pangasutri and maybe have the opportunity to come riding in gloriously and pull Inks' ass out of the fire if her troops are needed and then smugly and haughtily tell Inks that she's very welcome, no no, don't even mention it darling while in full ojou mode and in full view of everyone there.))  
>  ST: ((This is on approximately the same level of difficulty as "convincing" a starving vampire to snack on a bleeding human they hate who's holding up both arms and saying "please eat me I taste good".))  
>  Inks: (hahaha)  
>  ST: ((It might actually be easier. Is there such a thing as negative Difficulty?))  
>  Inks: (circumstance bonuses, or automatic successes on the roll if you feel like it. Otherwise it just is 'automatically successful'. if Threshold Successes would matter, I'd roll it)  
>  Inks: (binary pass/fail though doesn't need it)  
>  ST: ((I was kidding. So yeah, you've sent your message. What else?))  
>  Inks: (Researching a banquet menu, acquring ingredients for said menu, and then creating the meal to serve at lunch; with intention of asking Pipera nicely to Sweeten the Tap)  
> 

  
  


* * *

Armed with a fresh and crystal clear profile of the current court, Inks now turned her eye towards addressing the failings of yesterday. She had been ill-prepared. On the back foot- and not playing to her strengths. Subdued, even.

She might have been saying all of that in the third person while modeling her closet for Pipera. The other woman's eyes had not stopped rolling.

With one train of thought focusing on her comportment, another line of thinking focused on the court and it's personalities. Her skill was in the physical arts, even more than the social ones. And good food was a gesture of culture and hospitality that Inks was nearly certain would go over well.

Fortunately, the delegations would likely have brought the foodstuffs their dignitaries would have preferred, so Inks wouldn't be forced to hunt for something. She did however send Maji off to do so anyway, simply because her tiger was best hunter friend and needed to stretch his legs.

If he came home with something nice, well all the better.

So to acquire the foodstuffs, Inks delegated, sending Pipera with instructions, bolstered by Inks's own sunlit brilliance. Now that left researching the local culinary traditions.  
Herbs and spices were going to be king, as there simply was not a lot of regional variance in meat and poultry. She admittedly did not have a lot of time, but the Dove's nest did have a permanent staff with a head cook who was susceptible to her cleavage.

Armed with all that insight, Inks turned her skill to the culinary arts.

* * *

A great cookfire was constructed, with handsome clay and metal pots laid out for boiling and steaming. Clean grills were set out over coals or roaring, sinuous flame. Vahti, in a great show of her growing control, coaxed the fires to dance at her will, in the pit, up her arms and juggled by hand!  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So I wanted to stop the stunt there, because the roll results will help inform the next 'section')  
>  Inks: (Charms in use: OMTT to take concurrent mental actions. Per+Socialize research coxati diplomatic cuisine. Int+Bur plus Insightful Buyer to secure ingredients. Maji may roll wits+Surv to hunt something. )  
>  ST: ((Cool. So, hmm. Do you want the details to work into your stunt if you roll well?))  
>  Inks: (Yeah, that's what I was hoping, or if I screw up, I can try to counter-stunt)  
>  Inks: (This is all building up to a craft roll to make the meal, and then we segue into the diplomatic talks)  
>  Inks: (Well, 'talks', more 'Everybody declaring whatthey're doing)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So, hmm. You've been most places in the Coxati, so let's call this a Diff 3 roll for the Per+Soc, and a Diff 2 to source ingredients. Maji rolls at flat Difficulty with (capped) scaling results based on successes.))  
>  Inks: (Cool, and I negate 4pts of penalty on the socialize roll due to UtC, sojust Diff 3. I'll spend 6m for 3 autosux on the socialzie roll, another 6m on 2nd bureau, and Maji will roll his maxed pool of like 9d. Any stunt bonuses?)  
>  Inks: (I was really proud of myself for remembering that the coxati would have both brought food and had a permanent delegation here)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, nice catch. Hmm. +2 stunt for Inks, +1 for Maji.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3 "Per+Soc";[2, 9, 7, 3, 3, 2, 10, 10, 5, 2] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold 6)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3 "Int+Bur";[6, 2, 4, 1, 9, 1, 8, 9, 9, 3] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Threshold 5)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "Maji";[5, 8, 3, 9, 7, 9, 6, 4, 10, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.  
>  Inks: (Best boy)  
> 

  
  
Thought, research and a bit of early-morning flirtation - she had to spare time for the cooking! - bought Inks valuable information. Etiyadi, she already knew, would want spices, heat and fire in her meal - with lots of plants and vegetables, since the fertile fields of her home city were what she was used to. Xandia would want a more meat-heavy diet - the wild mountain ox Maji dragged up the ravine would suffice nicely for that. Moto was a picky asshole, but it wasn't hard to gather some Earth-and-Serenity rich plants that hadn't quite turned to stone from the edge of the demesne, and prepare them in the special manners customary to his religious background. Not that he seemed to be particularly respectful, but it would be what he was used to - and perhaps the peace and serenity in the ingredients would make him less acerbic.

Pangasutri was the tricky one - Inks knew less about him, having never visited his domain. In the end, she banked on the guess that he probably wouldn't be keen on eating his friends, and quietly managed to peek at the eating habits of his soldiers. A restricted menu that included no meats other than fish was what she came up with - and, in a stroke of cheeky brilliance, a side-bowl of seeds for his thrush.

Blueswell, at least, was easy. Fresh fish were easy enough to lay her hands on, and she could safely leave them that way save for the gutting and boning - a water elemental would have no patience for fire touching their meals. Soaking them in a sauce blend to bring out the flavour would be enough. Which would also allow Pangasutri to have some fish too, if he wanted.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Excellent! that's perfect)  
> 

  
  
On some unspoken cue, Vahti cast her wreath of flame back into the pit, and as the wood and coals crackled, Inks stepped out into the courtyard. From the kitchen portal she came, carrying two massive trays with easy grace. Behind her were cooks and kitchen staff with smaller burdens-

The Twilight herself was done up in grand style, a vision of beauty and a riot of color that reminded all of them that she was Gem's Painted Beauty. Her gown of the moment was sublime, snug, framing and flattering pearly silk of golden-white. Lustrious thread in a rich cerulean sang praise-names to Venus, stitched along the folded and knotted hems along her body.

Even the plates and grills were blessed, etched by Inks's hand to imbue upon the food a little bit of Serenity. She laid the cuts of mountain ox on the grill, set the ribs and shanks to turning on their blessed spits, and more.

The work of ten men and hours of labor were condensed into an elegant dance of heat, salt, spice and vigor. Cooking wine and sauce drizzled over sizzling meat and vegtable. Pots bubbling merrily with boiling water and bobbing tuber. The smells filled the courtyard as Inks walked the circumference of the pit, and Vahti coaxed the flames to rage or slacken as needed.

Somehow, out of season, out of climate, Inks had managed to secure cirtrus fruits- oranges and lemons, and made eager work of the rare regional delicacies.

Finally though, in grand style, Inks declared that lunch was served, and with a will, the staff of the Dove's Nest leaped into action. Courses were plated up, cookware cleaned and stored, still etched with the blessings of Serenity and now held as treasures of the diplomatic enclave.

The great table from the day before was crowded now, replete with the finest fare Inks could muster. To the staff and aides she had conscripted, Inks apologized the best way she knew how- by calling forth candied delights from the air itself in a grand sorcerous gesture.

After all that, Inks took her place at the table, along with the other Coxati dignitaries. There she urged them with a grin and earnest wink to dig in, and _enjoy_.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((For Serenity-food, in a Serenity demesne, towards a Serenity goal... 3-die stunt~))  
>  Inks: (Okay, int+Craft + CNNT, +3 stunt, +10d from 1st excellency, gonna whip up a cooking style as well for +3d more.)  
>  Inks: (Are there any qualifying aides I could draw on?)  
>  Inks: (Also amusingly, UtC would apply to this roll as well, since it's a Social or Dramatic Action)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Hmm. There's a medly of people here, but no actual _chefs_ except for in Etiyadi's brigade, since of course.))  
>  Inks: (Hence qualifying, if not that's fine, just wanted to ask)  
>  Inks: (so 26d total)  
>  Inks: (Eh, waht the hell, conviction channel for 5more)  
>  Inks: !ex 31;[1, 5, 6, 1, 8, 4, 7, 5, 3, 3, 9, 1, 6, 6, 3, 7, 5, 5, 5, 8, 6, 7, 3, 7, 10, 1, 1, 10, 7, 6, 6] was rolled for 12 successes.  
>  Inks: (hahaha, well that wasn'ta great roll statistically, but I'm still happy)  
>  ST: ((Still pretty impressive~))  
> 

  
  
The misty rain had mostly stopped by noon, and rather than bring food into the sacred space of the demesne's heart, Pipera had tables set up just outside it; beyond the ring of petrified armadillos. Inks sat with her back to the Broken Egg; framed by the split halves of the colossal geode, as the lords and ladies of the Coxati sat.

"Darling," Etiyadi murmured, amused. "You cooked for us? So kind of you." Her eyes took their time dragging up and down Inks' figure. "And you dressed up for us, too," she added with a smirk.  
"Mmmm. Cooked for you all, most certainly." Inks cocked her hips left and right, grinning. "Dressed? I did that for _myself~_ "

"Oh, but we're all benefiting, sweetheart," Moto put in, smirking. "So, are you going to be waitressing to? What's on the menu?" He gestured casually at the spread that had been set out for him, grinning rogueishly. "Pour me a drink, darling, and tell me about the specials."

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." Inks demurred, smiling. "All the little tastes of home, as it were." She went on to note the dishes, slow roasted ox, steamed and grilled mountain vegtables, prepared in ways that humbled most palettes.

She did not rise to Moto's bait, exactly, but she was essentially the master of ceremonies and caterer, so it fell to her and Vahti to do the serving. Inks for her part just let Moto's acerbic wit bounce off her smile and confident curves, treating her bustline as a breastplate against his simple taunts. Vahti followed Inks's lead, staying calm and focusing more on making the candles dance in pleasant ways.

She rounded the table, plates in hand as she quietly asked after each attendants preferences. With Xandia she was warm and professional, promising a good meal made with sincere respect and effort.  
To Etiyadi she was more openly flirtatious, glibly noting in quiet tones the aphrodesiac properites of the various spices Inks had selected for the volcano daughter.

To Pangasutri, she tailored herself and her comportment as best she was able, unapologetic of her sexuality or hedonism, but not rubbing it (or herself) in his face. Even the plates that held his meal were a tribute to what she understood of his character, elegant and humble but made of straight, rigid lines and squares.

But Moto, snarky, acidic Moto, Inks turned up the charm. When she rounded the table, she leaned up behind the man and draped her arms over his shoulders, pressing his head into the swell of her breasts and surrounding him in her perfume.

She reached out, plucking the wine glass set aside for him and a donated bottle from the Dove's communal stores. At Etiyadi's indignant look, Inks tossed a wink that Moto could not see, even as he openly and shamelessly enjoyed his position under Inks's arms.

She brought the wine and glass close, so that Moto wouldn't (couldn't) escape her warm closeness, pouring with a deliberate, sensual slowness. It made the designs of her tattoo stand out, the muscles in her arms making the mountains and mandala across her skin shift enticingly.

Setting the bottle down, Inks traced a soft hand across Moto's cheek and chin, bringing the glass to his lips as if to serve him. His hand reached up by reflex to take it...  
And then Inks was gone, stepping away and leaving him cold, his wineglass in hand and smiling broadly. "So don't mind me- dig in!"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Cha+Pres))  
>  Inks: (Stunt?)  
>  ST: ((3 dice, you dramatic sassy bitch. Nice invocation of the tattoo.))  
>  Inks: !ex 23 +1 "Sexy Stunner perk applies";[10, 6, 3, 9, 7, 8, 1, 6, 2, 7, 2, 3, 4, 2, 5, 3, 2, 7, 4, 8, 10, 9, 7] was rolled for 13 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
Inks rather thought she'd managed to impress the flippant asshole. Oh, she didn't leave him _gaping_ \- or drooling - like she'd sort of wanted to. But his smirk took on a tinge of respect, and he tilted his glass in a toast to her as she sashayed away. More importantly, he _shut up_ after that - mostly. It seemed that even Gem's Painted Beauty couldn't _entirely_ quash his tongue.

The best she got from Pangasutri was a humourless look and a grave nod after he saw her looking at his happy thrush, but that was more than she'd really expected to get anyway, so... call it a win. Xandia acknowledged her with a faint smile, and tucked into her platter in a remarkably good impression of someone who hadn't planned against one of her fellow lords the evening before. She wasn't sitting with Priscia or sharing food - probably to avoid exposing her as a weakness - but Priscia seemed to be enjoying herself nonetheless, so that was another win to chalk up on the board. Blueswell was utterly delighted with his own repaste, and seemed enchanted with the use of a fork. He... probably wasn't going to steal it and keep it for himself, Inks thought. Probably.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Yay! Worked out pretty well.)  
> 

  
  
Taking her seat and dishing up her own meal, Inks let out a gusty, satisfied sigh. "Thank you all again for attending. Go ahead, eat! Have a good time! We can focus on business in due course."

Doing so with gusto, Inks struck up a conversation with Xandia first, before drawing Etiyadi in. It was more a minor debate of statecraft and policy, nothing that was particularly contentious or relevant to the El Galabi decision- but it was enjoyable in it's own right.

Xandia for one appreciated having someone just as brilliant as her to match wits against, while Etiyadi was bemused at having a peer who was more interested in elevating her understanding than trying to beguile her with her own vices. There was a bit of beguiling, but mostly insofar as Inks was just very affectionate and sincere in her attraction.

Of course, once the idea of statecraft came up, Pangasutri involved himself with terse, grudging statements to the effect of spirits should not interfere with the natural order. Inks's charm was hardly perfect, and she did not have a faultless counter to the other lord's position. Regardless, for all his hidebound nature, Pangasutri was still a man of conviction and willingness to explore philosophy. Insightful in his own way.

Moto for his part joined in to heckle and needle, commenting glibly that he'd pay to see Etiyadi and Inks's 'diplomatic retreats'. Or charge, if they were planning on something more public. Inks's response to that was to the effect of 'You would need more wealth than in both heaven and earth to pay for that pleasure, sweetheart.

But all in all, the point of the discussion was to ease tempers, build familiarity, and for Inks, inspire a shared belief amongst the court that she was who she said she was- an honest dealer. Honest in both her ambition and in her goals.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So Ideally this is Inks usng Wise Eyed Courtier Method to instill a principle in this court of 'Inks is an honest dealer')  
>  ST: ((Okay, uh... hmm. So, WECM specifies that it's used on a social group and subtracts a penalty based on the MDV of the group's "leader".))  
>  Inks: (Right, which technically I'd rule as Xandia, more than anyone. Since she has the strongest claim of 'leadership' here.)  
>  Inks: (I do agree it's sort of an edge case)  
>  Inks: (if you don't think WECM applies, I'd be perfectly happy with a general attr+socialize roll to boost the final declarations)  
>  ST: ((No, hmm. That works. Mag 2 group, so -(8+1)= -9 penalty. I'm going to say that in this case, MDV modifiers (Xandia and Etiyadi liking you, Moto being here to troll, Pangasutri being critical) cancel out.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, and UtC chops 4 more off that)  
>  Inks: (So Diff 1, -5 ext penalty, against Inks's 8d + 4 autosux from 2nd Socialize. Any stunt?)  
>  ST: ((2 dice))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +4;[3, 4, 8, 8, 10, 8, 6, 9, 2, 8] was rolled for 11 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (So that's a threshold of 6, which instills a 3 dot principle in the Court- so when the Court evaluates decisions, it will do so with that in mind. It has no bearing on the individuals and their principles)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
> 

  
  
Eventually, the food was finished and the meal was over. The mood sobered - or perhaps merely became more serious - as the appointed lords rose from their seats and circles the geode, entering as was customary from different directions to take seats around the table.

Xandia was first to speak once they were all assembled.

"Yesterday we heard a proposal," she said. "Is there anything new that its advocate would have us hear to support it?"

Collecting her notes from the day before and starting a new page, Inks nodded. "I would encourage additional assurances. That if any Coxati Lord wishes to muster troops to protect their borders, I would accept this wholeheartedly."

"As a related point, I will be happy to liasion with observers or dignitaries through the course of the campaign, to ensure the sovereignty of the Coxati nations remains sacrosanct." She smiled, speaking more casually. "I'd rather everyone knows where we stand, figuratively and strategically, so that we're not spooking each other into doing something we'd regret."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (The intent here is to tee up for Etiyadi, which I thought was elegant.)  
> 

  
  
"There are three lords here who could thwart this goal," said Etiyadi, straightening in her lounge chair and and drawing authority around herself like a mantle. Her beauty and charisma crashed down on the table like a hammer. It was easy to forget just _how_ powerful the woman's presence could be - how regal and unquestionable and beautiful she could seem, when she acted like the monarch she was instead of the decadent she liked to be.

"Three lords who could put a stop to this scheme in its infancy," she continued. "And the most able of them is me. Were I to judge this venture foolish, I could cut off Gem from the food I supply it with, or send my armies to crush the forces raised against the city of the Dead - or simply command the Lady Inks not to." Her expression suggested that there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever that such a request - even devoid of justification - would be obeyed.

She smiled. It was like the sun coming out from behind stormclouds. "But I will not, of course," she said. "The Dead are an abomination, and _should_ be cleansed. Too long has El Galabi stood empty and befouled. Revived, it will draw trade up into the mountains and once again stand as an ally against the ravages of the southern wyldtide. Not only will I allow this - my armies will muster south of the city to aid you in your goal."

Etiyadi's mercurial moods were a thing of legend, but all Inks could do was bask in the sudden and hearty warmth that seemed to flow from the other woman's smile and noble cheer. "I would be honored and delighted to accept this." She turned to the other lords, beside herself with anticipation. "Are there any other offers or obligations?"||

"I could also stop this," Xandia offered with a smile. "But I'm satisfied - given a few conditions - that it doesn't threaten the Coxati or my coalition. I will not give my aid or spend my resources... but I will not stop you, either."

"Moto, gracious Pangasturi?" Inks turned to those lords with a respectful grin. Xandia's support was all she needed, but best not borrow trouble.

Moto spread his hands. "Hey, sugar," he said easily. "I'm sure I can't stop you, and I'm not sure why I should care to. It's all far south of me, and you're not going to put me out of business." All three other lords around the table developed scowls - even _Blueswell_ gave a little frown, which was honestly sort of impressive - and Moto's grin notched upwards in smugness by a couple of degrees.

"So yeah," he finished, leaning back and putting his feet up on the sacred table again. "Do as you wish. I give you my lordly permission, and all." He waved a hand in patronizingly gracious permission.

Pangasutri, though, was not looking happy. "The Dead are an abomination," he gritted out. "But to replace them with a demon-summoner is no better - and to return it to a place of the sun-on-earth would be only a slight improvement. I will not condone this action."

After waiting for a beat, it seemed like he wasn't going to follow that up with anything else. Apparently his disapproval spelt the end of the matter, to his mind.

Inks had not expected a perfect victory, even if she strove for one. Instead, she achieved what she set out to do. They might not all have been in agreement, but as far as she could tell- Well, she could maybe tell. Focusing on Pangasutri, she intuited his meaning, beyond his own severe countenance.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (SRoI on Panga's statement)  
>  Inks: (Mostly trying to winnow out if he's planning something)  
>  ST: ((His motivation in speaking his disapproval is to stop Inks from going any further with her plan, and to drop it and return to either Gem or the Sun.))  
>  Inks: (Well, considering that'skinda hostile to her motivation... 'Reclaim El Galabi')  
>  Inks: (Newp)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
> 

  
  
"Then I think we have reached an understanding." Not an accord, or conclusion, exactly- but it was more than Inks had hoped for in some ways and less in others. But above all else- a _success_.

* * *

  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Anything else to do before we close session? I know there's some off cmaera details like Xandia wanting a contract, I could argue invoking one here as well but I'm not sure if we should)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, that seems a good place to call it.))  
>  ST: ((End session.))  
>  ST: ((4xp + 2xp for achieving an important Motivation-related goal + 1mxp + 1Sxp))  
>  Inks: (Yay!)  
>  Inks: I hope you had fun?  
>  ST: Yup!  
>  ST: You?  
>  Inks: I definitely had a lot more room to maneuver  
>  Inks: last session I was kinda... not stuck, but jumping straight into the talks didn't let me play to my strengths  
>  Inks: which is not really anyone's fault, just a pacing slip  
>  Inks: I _really_ liked the opening scene w/ Vahti. Was v.cute.  
>  Inks: and getting to do some dramatic extra stunting was great.  
>  Inks: Much flirting.  
>  Inks: Poor Moto.  
>  ST: :P  
>  ST: In the span of time he has been here, which I will remind you is a matter of _barely a few days_ , he has managed to piss off every single member of the summit _including Blueswell_.  
>  Inks: hehehehe  
>  ST: Moto is having a _wonderful_ time.  
>  ST: Do not feel bad for Moto.  
>  Inks: true, true  
>  Inks: more broadly, I like that I had the opportunity to play to Inks's character  
>  Inks: last session I felt like I wasn't able to, again nobody's fault- or more mine for not really having any ideas.  
>  ST: Yeah  
>  ST: Good session!  
>  Inks: indeed  
> 

  
  



	64. Session 64: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 7

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 64))  
>  Inks: (quick thing-)  
>  ST: ((?))  
>  Inks: (Even w/ my training charms, it will take 3 or 4 weeks to learn War 4; the entire trip back to Gem, basically. Inks currently has War 3, counts as training w/ a tutor via magic, so iirc that's [current rating] weeks to gain [next rating])  
>  Inks: (So if you rule [current rating], that gives me an extra 7 days to learn something else)  
>  Inks: (as for how, Inks is gonna play a lot of gateway/wargames w/ Pipera and Vahti on the trip back.)  
>  ST: ((Weren't you already doing training as a Minor action for this season?))  
>  ST: ((A bunch of charms, as I recall))  
>  Inks: (I was, but I thought this whole coxati interlude ended up being a season's worth of work?)  
>  Inks: (as in, it's now the Next Strategic Interval)  
>  ST: ((... yeah, both there and back.))  
>  ST: ((That is to say, you're back home as we move into the next interval.))  
>  Inks: (Oh. Okay. So for the sake of saying so: Minor "Trip to Coxati + Training" And then 'Major: Talks + Trip Back", so now we arrive back at Gem having fully exhausted the current season's worth of actions?)  
>  ST: ((Yup!))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, I had not realized that. Carry on!)  
> 

  
  
It was a weary but triumphant Inks who arrived back in Gem, with Maji proudly stalking beside her and being congratulated for his catching a particularly temperamental bison a day or two prior. Inks is happy to see her manor again - and lo and behold; there's a pleasant surprise waiting for her when she does.

"Beloved!" cried Suleiman, springing up from his seat by the pool when she entered. "Bolder and more beautiful than ever! It does my heart well to see you again!"

When the doors gave way and showed the desert trader, Inks felt energy trickling back into her limbs. "Mmmm!" Maybe not enough energy for _words_ just yet. Moving forward with purpose, she not quite flattened herself against his chest and shoulder in a warm hug.||  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I... don't remember their relative heights, now that I think about it, and Inks is tall + heels)  
>  ST: ((He's probably shorter, if only because basically everyone is shorter than Inks.))  
>  Inks: (So not a lot of Heroic Builds around, I guess. Gotcha)  
> 

  
  
He picked her up and spun her around; well-muscled arms bearing her weight easily, and deposited her next to the bath to soak her feet. "Ah, but you are fresh off the road," he added. "I know all too well what that feels like. Worry not, beloved! Sit there and rest; I will see to your needs."

In a surprisingly short amount of time - aided by the apparently inexhaustible Vahti - he wrangled Inks' staff into providing cool, thirst-quenching refreshments, arranged for a change of clothes to be brought out, convinced Pipera to sit down and stop trying to take over, and even pacified Pesala into taking a nap - well, alright, Maji picking her up by the scruff of the neck, dropping her on a pile of blankets and laying an enormous bronze paw over her when she tried to escape had something to do with that as well. Nonetheless, Suleiman's infectious charisma and sincerity seemed to have done a good job of winning over the staff in the - Inks checked - day and a half he'd been here before her arrival. Surprisingly early for him - it was only the start of Water, and he usually didn't arrive until sometime next month.

Seeing as the bath was _right there_ Inks did the sensible thing after taking her shoes of- she flicked open the catches at her neck and side and slipped out of her clothes before wading in. Pipera's exasperated eyeroll barely registered, and Inks just let out a slow, sensual and satisfied sigh. "Mmmph! Glad... Glad you all are here. Whew."

With the waters taking away her burdens both of the body and spirit, Inks was free to let her mind find itself once more. "Still have a lot to do- places to go, people to see, armies to rai-" She let out a cavernous yawn despite herself. -"aaaise."

At Sulieman and Vahti's look, Inks had the decency to bunch up her shoulders and sink a bit more in the pool. "Uh... Maybe tomorrow though. But Gem! Details. What's been happening since we were gone?"||

Pipera moved to get up, but sighed irritably and collapsed back into her chair at Suleiman's puppy eyes. "Well, apparently a detailed assessment will have to wait," she grumbled. "Carsa? What broad news has there been?"

"Um..." Carsa said, biting her lip. "Well, uh... there was something about a big Ranger expedition down south to Payumi coming back a week ago. A pox made the runs around the Ring tunnels not long after you left - until it was over. Oh, and th-the Lord Despot came around a few times to have meetings with... people. I'm not sure who; he talked to them behind the privacy wards."

Inks's brows furrowed. "Rankar was using my home to conduct private business?" She frowned at that. And wasn't quite sure what to feel about it either other than... dismayed. She could at least do something about the pox, if it was still going.

"Pipera-" Inks shot Sulieman a gentle but warning look. "See about arranging a meeting with Piercing Sun and the Rangers... in a few days. Nothing pressing. And follow up on that pox for me please- I'll probably be able to take care of it."

Fortunately for Pipera, one of Inks's other house staff had retrieved brush and paper, so her assistant only had to move an arm instead of herself. She took dutiful notes with a nod. "Carsa- please prevent others from using the warded rooms until I have a chance to examine them. Tomorrow at the earleist. Thank you."

Suleiman seemed to understand that there were serious talks to be had, and made his excuses after another hug and appreciative kiss; leaving to check on his caravan. Once he was gone, Pipera frowned.

"So," she said. "I suppose he did claim access to the baths whenever he wanted when he gave you permission to build them. Still." A muscle in her jaw was twitching - ah, Inks realized. Private space. Yes, Pipera probably didn't feel any better about this than Inks herself did.

"Well," Pipera finished grudgingly. "I suppose there's little we can do about it. What are our goals from here on out, then?"

"Gear up for El Galabi- make arrangements to train a starting core of exorcists, secure Piercing Sun's help via the Rangers, draw on the Despot's Guard. Get them all equipped. At the very last, securing a strong contract with a Deyha force as shocktroops."

"I think those goals are too far out though, so I'm trying to narrow my view a bit." Between the rough travel and ill news, Inks didn't feel particularly sensual, so her normal self-affirming gestures were markedly absent.

"I have some demonology goals I want to achieve as well, plus some personal work if I can find time."

"Aww, come on, boss." Vahti plopped down behind her, massaging her shoulders. "I bet it'll be fine! Piercing Sun pro'lly went down south to get some awesome gear for the campaign! And Tatters'll be fine to help you teach people how to bonk ghosts on the head. What needs narrowing?"

"Specific goals _within_ those goals. I got bit way too hard by my lack of foresight with the Coxati talks, so I'm a bit hyper-vigilant." Inks smiled despite her tone, leaning into Vahti's touch. "Having said all that, I don't want to worry about _any of that_ until tomorrow after a good night's sleep."

"Well then," Vahti said cheerfully. "Pips'll be going back to her room to get caught up on what we missed, and Pesala's enacting a great escape from Maji-enforced naptime. Your boytoy'll be back in a few hours. So..." She winked. "How about you show me that stuff about Venus while we wait for your 'good night's sleep', hey?"

Pipera (and the rest of the staff) took that as their cue to make themselves scarce, as Inks turned to press herself firmly and flush against Vahti's front, eyes all but glowing with intent. "I think that's a _fantastic_ idea."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so. What's your first move? Since she's arrived back with a bit of warning and much success, she can get appointments fairly easily.))  
>  Inks: (My very first move is using Crafty Observation Method on the rooms Rankar was using, because I want to know who/what he was meeting with.)  
>  Inks: (Which is gonna take 5 seconds per 'scene' targeted, so overall hardly anything)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay, mmm. Roll Int+Investigation at Diff 2.))  
> 

  
  
Rankar VII was the Despot of Gem, and Inks for all her power, was still subject to his desires. Not as many as he would have prefered, but still. There was the small challenge of the townhouse being cleaned several time since Rankar had used her property, but Inks was still considering it a worthy hour of her time to go over her home for interesting details.

There was no need to do anything so crass as move furniture or look under cushions- the traces of inhabitants and actions were plain to her sight.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Invest 9 +2 style, likely +2 stunt. Since there's likely been a lot of stuff happening, External Penalties? Or Just Diff 2, got it.)  
>  Inks: !ex 13; [3, 7, 3, 4, 1, 4, 7, 6, 9, 4, 6, 6, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (wow. Oh well!)  
> 

  
  


Rankar had been in here a few times, Inks thought. He'd been talking to someone important - three people, the most recent time, who'd been fed and had... yes, smoked something aromatic and expensive. Exactly what he'd been doing, though, she couldn't tell - the staff had been cleaning it every time he used the place; not wanting him to arrive for another meeting to find that they hadn't kept things neat and tidy.

Useful, but not particularly detailed- She left instructions with her staff to continue to allow Rankar to use her home, but to alert her afterwords so she could make a better attempt at divining his purpose.

That done, she arranged for a number of appointments, several of which were just to check in with her industrial advisors and managers, Soft Ash at the Orphanage, and so on. She made a particular note to stop by the Sahlak houses with Vahti, asking after Janissa for a consultation on the Maiden of Serenity, as the pleasure palaces were at least somewhat aligned with the Incarnae.

Suffice to say the discussion was vigorous and informative.

But most importantly, Inks wanted to talk to Piercing Sun about his recent expedition, and _maybe_ borrow something from his armories.

The star fort on the outskirts of Gem had grown - _again_ \- gaining outhouses and a few strange-looking gardens outside the main walls. Inside, it was a hive of activity - and celebration. Apparently, whatever they'd been doing in Payumi, it had been successful. If probably not too kind on Payumi's residents.

Piercing Sun himself was apparently - in a startlingly rare course of events - asleep. However, he'd left instructions that if "that fool girl gets back from tongue-wagging at the mountain lords and decides to talk about steel", he be woken to take charge of her efforts. Accordingly, she was shown up to his room - a surprisingly stark and militaristic affair that was even lacking in most of the trophies she would have expected. There were a few mementos, though - a red-metal firewand with a fractured barrel, a sand-encrusted scroll bound with a strip of snakeskin, what looked to be a simple wooden broadhead arrow fletched with white feathers. No doubt there were stories tied to each of them - stories known by the old man in the linen robe who walked out of an equally sparse bedroom, yawning. Through the door, Inks could see that the bed was little more than a sleeping mat - with a place beside it for his dragon-headed staff to rest.

It was no subtle manipulation, but Inks was wearing her Ashigaru armor again, helmet held in her bent arm. She gave the older man a reserved smile as he bustled about his personal space, until he deigned to acknowledge her directly.

"Alright, gal," he yawned again, having downed three mugs of something jet-black and bitter that smelled strong enough to strip paint. "So, you're back from nicely asking the hill people permission to play in their foothills." Moving stiffly at first, but rapidly growing smoother, he began to go through a ritual series of stretches to loosen up. "What're you here for, then? If you're trying the same thing your elemental tried; I'll give you the same answer as I did her: sparing's more fun on the field than the bedroll at this stage in my life." His grin made it clear he didn't for a moment think that _was_ what she was here for, but... okay, she might need to ask Vahti about that story, it sounded either terrible or hilarious.

"Mmmm." Inks grinned. "Not going to lie, Sun, you _are_ pretty sexy. But no, that's not why I'm here."

"I did succeed, more or less at not picking any more fights than necessary. I have some concerns with Pangasturi, but I can worry about those closer to the campaign in earnest. Today I wanted to ask permission to examine your armories, maybe borrow some gear. Even broken salvage would be useful."

He was silent through a particularly joint-popping back bend, straightened up, and then whipped around with a kick from his previously-injured leg, nodding in satisfaction when it flowed smoothly as silk and struck the wall hard enough to shake a few bits of dust from the ceiling. Moving from the stretches into a series of phantom kicks and punches, he nodded. "What kind of thing would you be looking for? You've got that wagon-frame of a sword for a weapon, and your new armour puts something halfway decent between you and anything pointy."

"Boots, mostly." Inks tapped her conspicuously unarmored feet against the floor. "Plus I just am interested in seeing interesting things, and I'm sure you have them. Hold still."

That last bit had the decisive tone of a medical expert. He still stiffened up when her hand neared his back and shoulder, but he eventually let her draw a fingertip down his spine. "Hmm..."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I never did pick up Ailment-Rectifying Method, which would apply to Sickness (Old Age)  
>  ST: ((No, but the lack of chronic pain helps a lot. :P))  
> 

  
  
"Don't tell me something else is broken," he scoffed with an eyeroll. "No need to fuss over me, gal, I feel better than I have in decades."

"I could probably figure out ways to make you feel even better." Inks offered with a dry quirk of her lips. "You're just old and you've lived a violent life. I'd have to... I don't know, reconstruct an entire health plan and diet based on shogunate medical sciences to _really_ get you in top shape, but you probably be bored stiff. It's hard to be healthy and have fun."

"Aye, I know that well enough," he scoffed. "Alright, go ask the demon to show you the archives. I'm sure she'll be able to tell you more about what's down there than most of the clods I employ, and I need food." He shooed her away gruffly, but she thought she caught a faint impression of a smile on his face as she left. Maybe he was finally starting to grow fond of her!

... nah. Probably picturing more tortures he could include in training sessions, knowing him.

"Sun~?" Inks raised a hand, and a handful of golden fluffy cakes appeared in her palm, smelling like some divine combination of hearty breads and candied syrup glazes. "With my compliments~"

Huffing, he swiped them and shooed her the rest of the way out, jerking a thumb and giving her rough directions to the library she'd found Bidaha in last time she saw the demoness.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Oh Sun~)  
> 

  
  
Moving through the expanded fortress, Inks cut something of a striking figure. Taller than most, wearing intact magical armor, but with her head and hair exposed. Her face was as gorgeous as the rest of her, and soldiers were a particularly raucous bunch when it came to lovely people.

But it did not take long for her to find Bidaha- Oh that was a tall stack of books in her arms and she was _busty_ today so they were doing wonderful things to her posture and-

Glancing over the pile, those deep, dark, _knowledgeable_ eyes creased in amusement, and Bidaha took her time gently filing all but one of the books, then sauntering over to a desk and taking a seat on it. "Inks," she purred. "My student-teacher. Here for another... lesson?" Something hungry swirled in her expression. "It's been a while since our last~"

"Several months," Inks agreed, and realized the armor was _confining_ and a terrible idea in this heat. "I was hoping you could help me search the armories and inventory, Piercing Sun gave me permission. I'm looking for... interesting things."

Interesting things implied knowledge, and that was enough to pique Bidaha's own attention, Inks was sure.

As predicted, the demoness lit up. " _Oh_ " she breathed in a voice of pure sex. "It would be my _pleasure_ darling, to show you through them. Come, come! We will start at once!" She paused, looking Inks up and down knowingly. "Unless, of course, you want to get out of that armour first~?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: !ex 5 "Conviction to stick to goals."; [4, 1, 5, 9, 7] was rolled for 2 successes.  
> 

  
  
Inks: "How about we make a date of it later?" Inks offered instead. "Vahti and I have been researching the Maiden of Serenity as well, we'd be _so happy_ for you to join us as well."

Bidaha hesitated momentarily - but ultimately, the lure of knowledge was greater than her distaste for the "traitor gods". "That sounds _divine_ " she teased, smirking at Inks' blush. "Now, come! We will start with the armoury, as it's closer."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so. Roll Perception+(lower of Craft and Investigation) to look around and find some interesting goodies.))  
>  Inks: (Since It's Invest, Crafty Observation method!)  
>  Inks: !ex 11 +4; Inks: [1, 3, 1, 6, 1, 3, 3, 6, 6, 5, 6] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Holy shit. That would've been a botch.)  
>  ST: ((Ahahahaha. Wow.))  
> 

  
  
The armoury doesn't yield much. Many, many, many weapons, of course - but most of them mundane. There _is_ a white jadesteel buckler shield with a hearthstone setting in the middle that looks fascinating and probably has some kind of power when socketed, but sadly that's spoken for by Sagacious Wing; Piercing Sun's daughter. The best find is that there are a number of patchwork piecemeal bits of Shogunate armour, among which are a number of boot designs. All are claimed by Piercing Sun's best - and none would fit Inks herself - but by studying them, she should be able to mock up the universal blueprints for their inner workings, and adapt them to a better-sized housing.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Neat! That's pretty much exactly what I was hoping for.)  
>  Inks: (So what do I need to do to study/get those universal prints?)  
>  ST: ((Spend a couple of days examining them all, basically.))  
>  Inks: (Neat, so Trivial Action, cool!)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, basically. Inks happy?))  
>  Inks: (Inks happy!)  
>  Inks: (I think another thing I want to do is try talking to Vicero, if you're up for that.)  
>  ST: ((Okay, well, reacts to this, I assume.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, sorry)  
> 

  
  
Grinning, Inks arranged for a few days in the armories, carefully going over every bit of magical and non-magical matériel she could. Every moment her smile somehow got wider and brighter. When she was finished, she had in her hands a generalized blueprint and formula of the enchantments unique to the magical footwear, more than enough to justify her time!

A lilac finger intruded over the top, and pushed them down and out of the way. "Now..." Bidaha said, her tone sultry. "About that lesson..."

* * *

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay! Vicero!))  
>  Inks: (Cool, looking forward to Vicero!)  
>  ST: ((You wanna lead in on the Vicero ritual?))  
>  Inks: (sure!)  
> 

  
  
It took a number of assurances both big and small that their participation in the ritual would be both voluntary, temporary and above all safe. To the point that Inks cast a number of wards and barriers against spiritual intrusion as appropriate. Not enough to marr the sorcerous anchor (that would defeat the point).

But instead to reassure her staff and assistants. Devising an ad-hoc cult and prayer to Vicero, the Wasteland Khan was a chore, but a necessary one to empower the totem she had crafted over the last few months. With her staff sequestered in various parts of her townhouse, away from prying eyes, Inks waited for the signal and prepared her casting.

In the inky darkness of the New Moon, Inks called upon a lord of Hell, a being of power and repute- a _Demon of the Second Circle!_  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Juuuuust roll me Int+Craft for the statue. Diff 2+2 external for working off a second-hand description and never having actually seen him before.))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +5 -2; Inks: [2, 8, 6, 2, 5, 6, 4, 7, 2, 6] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. Okay, so you're using a Cult version. Roll Charisma+Performance at Diff 2. You get one roll per hour, and once you accumulate six successes, he'll come.))  
>  Inks: (I have 0 Performance... Stunt bonus if any?)  
>  Inks: (Taking that as a no, Can always add it in later  
>  Inks: !ex 3; Inks: [4, 10, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (well, Inks is charming. That's 1 hour down.)  
>  ST: ((Well, hmm.))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, okay, two-die stunt as well.))  
>  Inks: !ex 2; Inks: [4, 8] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  Inks: (So that's 2 of 6.)  
>  Inks: (Should I keep rolling 5d per hour, or think of something else?)  
>  ST: ((Hang on.))  
> 

  
  
For the first hour, Inks praised and performed to no response. The statue - a bare-chested, shaggy-haired man with rubies for eyes and a rakish, fearless smile on his face - didn't change. For all Inks' invocations and invitations, the stupid hunk of rock just sat there listlessly.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, roll again.))  
>  Inks: !ex 5 +1 "Willpower."; Inks: [1, 8, 4, 10, 5] was rolled for 4 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
But during the second hour, sand shifted across the statue. Little details changed - the nose became a little broader, the hair shifted, the musculature of his chest changed a little. Small details; correcting the statue to match the demon.

And then it blinked.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Quick question - how large did Inks make this statue?))  
>  Inks: (She probably made it on the way to Coxati, unless I misunderstood how HDT works in this context. Let's say about... an actual size bust, so shoulders, torso, head, but nothing really below the collarbone)  
> 

  
  
The shaggy hair shifted as the stone head turned; grinding sounds coming from it as its occupant looked around. "Hah!" the demon lord Vicero said. "Greetings, greetings, my friends, my devotees! Your words are sweet, and your songs are wise! Who calls me?"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (this is actually early? I count 4 sux, not 6 total?)  
>  Inks: (4 threshold successes, I mean)  
>  ST: ((... oh shit, I thought you were counting threshold.))  
>  ST: ((... roll again and change "second" to "third", then. Assuming you succeed.))  
>  Inks: (Kek, sorry!)  
>  Inks: !ex 5 +1 "Roll 3 w/WP"; Inks: [7, 1, 9, 10, 6] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Nice.))  
>  Inks: (I was kinda spooked like, was it a mild trap, him showing up early?)  
>  ST: ((No, that was just me being silly. :P))  
> 

  
  
The ritual chamber (one of her spare rooms dressed for the occasion) was dark save for the small embers of incense and the starlight from the high thin windows. She touched a glowstone, turning it's painted face away so that she could stand now in light.

"I have called you." Inks stood before the table and statuette, the icon of the Demon Lord now housing his will. She'd set it up so that he would be eye-level.

"I am Inks, Twilight Solar." She declared with a grin.

"A Solar!" Vicero grins roguishly. "Long has it been since I met one of the sun-chosen! And for what do you call on the Wasteland Khan; desert princess? Or," he laughs, throwing his hair across his shoulder, "is praise of me alone enough?"

"I had hoped to employ your skills in a campaign in the near future- within the year I hope." Inks grinned slightly. "A lightning raid against a city claimed by the restless Dead." She kept a kind but attentive eye on the statue, confident that his character would not manipulate her so blatantly, but still alert. This was the most powerful being she had yet dealt with short of Tekutali.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Per+Socialise to read him))  
>  Inks: !ex 10 +3 (can we assume the +3 is from Mastery of Small Manners?);Inks: [4, 6, 6, 7, 2, 9, 6, 6, 7, 2] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((vs his (Man+Soc)/2 of 4))  
>  ST: ((Continue, unless you'd like me to give you her read on him now.))  
>  Inks: (continuing)  
> 

  
  
"But maybe more immediately, I have heard of your prowess and your great stores of treasure from countless battles. I would not ask that you give up your hard-earned wealth- but I'd like to ask if you have any sorcerous lore or insights you'd be willing to share."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Hee. Has she split off a mind-splinter to read him while she talks?))  
>  Inks: (Sure! Thanks for reminding me)  
> 

  
  
She read him as she spoke, a mind-splinter observing his reactions to her words. He was as gregarious and outgoing as Bidaha had described him - but not trusting of her; not yet. He was holding back; presenting a friendly face but not yet convinced of her bona fides. The statue wasn't helping - he didn't like that he was only a bust; devoid of movement or even limbs. If she'd made it a full-body statue - even a small one at one fifth  
scale - he'd probably be happier with the freedom of movement it granted.

"I am always happy to share with friends," Vicero boomed with another grin. This one had a twist to it. "But are you a friend, desert princess? You ask for much without getting to know me first!"

"That's true, and I apologize." Inks demurred with an easy grin of her own. "But I felt that letting you know my broad intentions would be more sincere than blatant manipulation, or some authoritarian decree as a summoner. I think we can be friends, or at least amicable~"

If the statue can move, maybe it can feel- and she did in fact give him some well-sculpted shoulders to inhabit. It took a few moments to maneuver the icon around, and Inks noted that Vicero was still a little put off about his lack of mobility, but it worked out well enough for her to rub the now pliable stone and metal that made up the demon's icon. A sympathetic shoulder massage.

"Mmmm," he rumbled, tilting his head. That shaggy mane fell sideways again, and he looked up at her. "Well then, sweet lady," he chuckled. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me a story - your story; as grand and gorgeous as yourself! Entertain me, and we shall see if friendship blooms between us!"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, you've got a dramatic action Charisma+Presence roll that you can use to win him over. The cult still singing his praises counts for a +1 assistant bonus.))  
>  ST: ((His MDV is 5, and your sexy style applies.))  
> 

  
  
"Mmm... Well, I suppose you could say I got my start in the roughest, toughest city in all of Creation- Nexus. Except I was one of the privledged few to live well and rich..."

The names, places and dates were hardly important. Instead what mattered was the _appeal_ The bawdy thread of intrigue, of her victories and experiences. Of her journey from Nexus to Gem, of her great feats of industry and mercantilism. The lovers she earned- Vicero was a salacious sort who enjoyed hearing about all the beautiful people Inks had come to know.

Details she kept to an artful minimum, enough to entice and excite, but while she was no stranger to kissing and telling... Well, it paid to be circumspect now. Tantalize, not titillate.

"... And that leads us to here and now, seeking friends and allies from realms near and far."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((+2 stunt))  
>  Inks: !ex 21; Inks: [2, 10, 7, 6, 2, 1, 9, 7, 1, 6, 5, 6, 4, 3, 10, 10, 10, 3, 9, 9, 8] was rolled for 14 successes.  
> 

  
  
By the end, Vicero is laughing, and would probably be applauding had he hands to applaud with. "Hah!" he shouts. "Yes, the Burning God! Ah, I recall some of my cultists coming to me through him - some of them are still in my horde this day! And Cahzor! Oh, desert princess, if you ride against that place you can call upon my aid at any hour; I recall my raids against it fondly from the Shogunate!"  
  


>   
>  ST: !ex 18; [3, 8, 4, 1, 8, 5, 7, 8, 2, 8, 10, 9, 9, 10, 4, 4, 10, 2] was rolled for 13 successes.  
>  ST: ((Vicero rolls _pretty well_ on being jovial and charismatic and dashing and an excellent listener who breaks in at all the right places and reacts with enthusiasm and passion, etc. Does Inks resist the 2-dot Principle of "Vicero (Really Nice Guy)"?))  
>  Inks: (Not to prod too hard about it, but you sort of forgot to give me time to activate charms, before the roll.)  
>  ST: ((... assume you can do so retroactively. Sorry 'bout that.))  
>  Inks: (It's fine, it's just really important since most of them are turned on before rolling. Do I use Parry or Dodge MDV? I don't want to overuse dodge MDV when it's not appropriate.)  
>  ST: ((Parry, in this case - she's engaging with him, she can't just ignore everything he's saying when it's a dialogue.))  
>  Inks: (her PDV is 5 +1 from sexy stunner bonus, so 6. I'd need to stunt a defense... Temptation Resisting Stance ONLY works on DMDV, good thing I caught that.)  
>  Inks: (I this NMI or UMI?)  
>  ST: ((NMI))  
>  Inks: (Alright, and implicitly I guess we're not using the [conviction] scenes rule, as Principles take over for that... I assume you're giving him a 2 dot instead of a 1 dot because he Rolled So Well?)  
>  ST: ((You also, I believe, have SRoI.))  
>  Inks: (I do, but it only perfects if the influence is fundamentally hostile to me or my goals)  
>  ST: ((Correct.))  
>  ST: ((And yes, partly that and partly the fact that she's been talking to him for hours.))  
>  Inks: (I'll use it anyway, mind- Sagacious reading of intent on him)  
>  ST: ((His intent: to get Inks to like him and be a loyal friend who he can have have a good time with when they spend time together.))  
>  Inks: (I would have to ask what is his definition of 'good time', if I can use a forked thought to guess?)  
>  Inks: (I am amused that Inks is so fast at thinking she can evaluate his intentions concurrent with the 'I am deciding if I want to accept his ovetures)  
>  ST: ((Well, this would be an example. Trading stories, laughing around a fire, having riding contests, etc. He's... kind of naive and trusting, for a demon. At least if you're his friend - and Inks has convinced him that yes, she's friendly.))  
>  Inks: (Then for the sake of a richer storytelling experience, Inks accepts the influence!)  
>  Inks: (and I would have had to spend something like 7 more motes and a conviction channel to even remotely get Inks's PDV high enough)  
> 

  
  
Despite herself, despite the stories Bidaha had told her of his terrible raids on the edges of the Demon City so that none looked out to the sands of the Endless Desert and hoped for salvation... Inks found herself liking him. He was genuinely pleasant to spend time with - gregarious, extroverted, brimming with cheer and good humour. He made her storytelling a dynamic experience; reacting and interjecting at just the right times to spin the tale onward, offering up anecdotes of his own that her talk inspired. She could almost forget he was a demon at all - and in fact he rather reminded her of another boisterous, charismatic, faintly naive man of her acquaintance. Although it was probably best not to ever mention that fact to Suleiman, who would almost certainly take it the wrong way.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Ahahaha harem problems)  
>  Inks: (So the converse is true, Inks is instilling a similar principle in Vicero, right?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. And I think we will end it there, if you want to give a closing point to the session as she bids him goodbye and the statue turns back to rock.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, will do)  
>  ST: ((She got a 2-dot Ally (Vicero) out of that, btw, which she can use to summon him.))  
> 

  
  
Wiping a tear from her eye without shame at how much he'd made her laugh, Inks nodded. "Thank you for coming to meet me, honored Vicero. I look forward to our next talk." Before the last light of the new moon faded and returned the statue to motionless stone, Inks pulled a bit of dyed paper from a nearby case.

Folding it over and bearing down on it with her lips, she smiled prettily with freshly colored lips. So equipped, she leaned over to plant a firm, moist kiss on his icon's cheek, and did not begrudge at all the deep whiff he took of her perfume.

And then the icon froze, with a frankly _hilarious_ look fixed upon it's features.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((And end session there. 4xp + 1mxp + 3Sxp.))  
>  Inks: (yay!)  
>  Inks: Fun session. Good intermediary beats w/ some nice triival actions  
>  Inks: coming weeks we can do some planning for Strategic Actions?  
>  ST: Yup yup yup  
> 

  
  



	65. Session 65: The Campaign To El Galabi Part 8

>   
> ST: ((Session 65))  
> ST: ((Okay, declare your planned strategic actions for this season.))
> 
> Inks: (Via stunt or just in summary? This is why I wanted to also sit down and talk to you- I don't actually know what is or isn't a strategic action, so I'm sort of going "...I want to get closer to These Goals?" without really understanding what I need to do.
> 
> ST: ((OOC for now; we're on mechanics atm.))
> 
> Inks: (Okay- Inks is attempting to build a functional united campaign out of the following elements: Gem's Rangers, Trained Exorcists, Despot's Guards, and Deyha Shocktroopers. I already know the Deyha are going to be last, so we can set the aside for now. We need a force stronger than 900, as to keep Pangasutri at bay. I took HDT action to prepare for the Exorcists, so I can advance that this interval.)
> 
> ST: ((Yup. So, "train exorcists" is one action you want done - we'll work out types later, for now we're just getting the list.))
> 
> Inks: (Right. Then I guess 'Secure Despot Guard support', and 'Gem's Ranger' support. And then if possible, take a craft action for Inks's new shoes)
> 
> ST: ((So, hmm. Call that 'coordinate between forces' as a general thing, including the deyha, etc. And "make personal equipment". You've also got any equipment you want the army to have, and arranging for supplies on top of that. And exorcist training. So. That's five actions.))
> 
> Inks: (Accurate. Ideally next season is 'Make army equipment', like the sunblessed gear. Personal equip, army equip, supplies, coordination. I can push some of this into the future w/ HDT)
> 
> ST: ((The coordination, training, supplies and army equipment are all valid preparatory actions - they're "banked" actions taken with the intention of making a goal project or campaign possible. Inks' boots aren't a prerequisite thing she's doing to prep for a specific future goal; she's crafting herself a general-use artifact that she intends to use afterwards as well.))
> 
> Inks: (Right, but hypothetically, if she were doing Research via HDT on turn 1, she could do so with intention of continuing that work on Turn 2)
> 
> ST: ((The Artifact-crafting is a Major action, as will the coordination between four different groups that will all want paying and contracts and a plan of action and so on - actually, honestly, "a written-up detailed strategy for how she's going to hit the city" is probably another thing Inks should prep.))
> 
> ST: ((Exorcist training is Minor, arranging supplies is Minor, crafting thaum gear is Minor, and Strategy Planning, if she chooses to do it, will be Minor. Now, the fun part.))  
> ST: ((Inks is in fact capable of delegating some of these.))
> 
> Inks: (Indeed!)  
> Inks: (Hmm... )
> 
> ST: ((So. How are you addressing your planned actions?))  
> Inks: (well, Piercing Sun is still Inks's Ally, so I feel it reasonable that I can ask him how he'd take the city with the forces she's proposing. I think it'd work out w/ their relationship as well, because she's not letting him bowl her over, but she is clearly asking for input and advice. Pipera logically is the one to arrange supplies. And the writing of the contract itself. Thanks to HAM, Inks can train the exorcists as a minor commitment as well, so that's good)
> 
> ST: ((You could also have Tatters do it, though Inks isn't aware if she has training magics.))
> 
> Inks: (Hmm... Yeah, but I don't actually need it to be as Fast as Possible right now either. So sure, I'll have Tatters train the exorcists- and Inks can supplement on the next season if necessary)
> 
> ST: ((Cool cool. So, full breakdown of your actions and who's doing them (or 'deferred' if you're leaving it for the next season)?))
> 
> Inks: (Inks - Craft Artifact (Major)  
> Pipera - Draft Campaign Contracts (Minor)  
> Pipera - Gather Supplies (Minor)  
> Piercing Sun - Draft Strategy (Minor)  
> Tatters - Train Exorcists (Minor)  
> Vahti - Personal Development (?))
> 
> ST: ((... hmm. Actually, thinking about it, gathering supplies for a probably-months-long campaign for an army of nine hundred or more people is probably a Major. But that's fine, Pipera can still support it. Tatters' training may be a Major or a Minor depending on how many she's training and whether she has a HAM-clone - that's what was making it a Minor for Inks. So, hmm. Second question - how many exorcists are you aiming for?))
> 
> Inks: (I don't know how many I'll need is the problem. I'd feel comfortable w/ 300- like 300 of every 'arm' of the force. But that might not actually be advantageous.)
> 
> ST: ((Well, you'll be marching with a Mag 7 force. What you need is enough exorcists to cover the city, basically - enough to put down the wards and maintain them.))
> 
> Inks: (I don't know how big the city is though, not offhand. Or the area-of-effect of a given warding schema)
> 
> ST: ((Hmm. It's a small city, so my ST judgement is... a Mag 4-5 unit will probably be best, yes. Two to three hundred.))
> 
> Inks: (Appreciated, thanks!)  
> ST: ((So yes, that's a Major action. Remind me what the RAW training time for a specialty dot is?))  
> Inks: (yeah, 3 weeks w/ a tutor)
> 
> ST: ((Yow. Hmm. So yes, for Tatters that's a Major action to teach them all up to three dots, at Diff 2 (for teaching complex occulty topics) + (Magnitude).))  
> Inks: (Yuesh)
> 
> ST: ((Pipera is rolling Int+Bur at a Difficulty of (army Magnitude + 1) for trying to amass an _enormous food stash_ in what isn't quite a barren wasteland but is still lacking in large stockpiles of food.))  
> Inks: (Is there a way I can assist with my Charms?)
> 
> Inks: (Plus I have Food from the Aerial Table, we won't need as Big a supply)
> 
> ST: ((True. Okay, that removes the +1. Pipera also has Charms of her own she can apply. The contracts are easier; that's just a Diff 3 Int+Bur roll for her to prepare the likely ones and get them out to the non-deyha members of the army-to-be. The deyha are going to be the tricky bit of that. Piercing Sun is making his own strategy roll on how to proceed across the city from the maps and so on.))
> 
> ST: ((Which leaves Inks' artifact. So. What rating is it again? 2-dot?))
> 
> Inks: (Cool. Correct, artifact 2)
> 
> ST: ((So, she has a complete set of plans from studying one. That counts as one exotic ingredient component. She needs another - and she also needs something to make the boots out of. Happily; these can be the same thing.))
> 
> Inks: (Alright, so I need to procure something like Orichalcum or Tumbaga?)
> 
> ST: ((Some form of MM or LMM, yes. She has some leeway on exactly what she makes it out of - if you can come up with another LMM, you could use that. Though I know how Inks is about her gold bling. :P))
> 
> Inks: (Alright well I can lean on Inks's bureaucracy charms to acquire proper Orichalcum, Frugal Merchant and Insightful Buyer; invoke the Iblans as well.)
> 
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay. Does she have the tools to work it?))
> 
> Inks: (Hinna's lab might- or at least she can use CNNT there to negate the penalty for trying)
> 
> ST: ((Hinna's lab is set up for alchemy, not metalworking.))
> 
> Inks: (Alas- then no, I do not explicitly have orichalcum-crafting tools, just CNNT)
> 
> ST: ((Okay. So, Inks isn't sure whether or not she can work it with the tools she has. House Iblan doesn't have any - though they do have small amounts of tumbaga. Getting her hands on enough orichalcum to make her boots will be a Difficulty/Resources 5 purchase, with a +5 external difficulty from rarity - true orichalcum is _really uncommon stuff_. However, getting her hands on it isn't a strategic roll, so she is allowed to use Excellencies.))
> 
> Inks: (Right, but I can drop that external penalty to -1.)
> 
> ST: ((Indeed. Int+Bur, and you can introduce her planning out what to do and looking for orichalcum with a stunt.))
> 
> Inks: (Alright! Good pacing switch)  
> Inks: (writing!)  
> 

  
  


* * *

After rest, relaxation, addressing a few other logistical concerns through the past several days, Inks set upon herself the goal of artifice! Her true passion, beyond even business and merchant empires!  
If there was anywhere in the world that would have the materials she needed- it would be urban Gem. Orichalcum, devil gold to the Realm, the finest and most righteous of metals. Inks's arrival and Chronicle was the largest infusion of the stuff the city had likely seen- and she fortunately did not need anywhere near as much.

Tentatively leveraging her support within House Iblan and other groups within Gem, Inks cut through the myriad hurdles of acquisition with charm and mercantile prowess!  
  


>   
> ST: ((2-die stunt, roll it.))  
> Inks: !ex 22 -1 "Insightful Buyer negates the penalty, I need 6 sux to 'pass'"; [9, 7, 7, 1, 8, 6, 9, 9, 7, 9, 6, 2, 5, 1, 2, 9, 10, 7, 3, 5, 9, 3] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (How about a Threshold of _6_ )  
> 

  
  
North, South and West... nothing. It was, in the end, from the _east_ that Inks' bounty came. Her inner sense for trade, supply and demand led her to the envoys of the Anam Way - and after some tiresome negotiations and an eye-watering sum, a sale was arranged.

It was an odd thing, when it eventually arrived in her hands. A pole of gleaming holy sun-gold, as thick around as her wrist at the base where it had been sheared off by some unimaginable force and tapering towards the point. It was two thirds the length of Chronicle - oh yes, there was more than enough material here for her boots, with a fair bit left over.

But it wasn't just a pole. Smaller, thinner rods branched out from it at odd intervals down its length, most of them likewise broken, with a few stubby bits of moonsilver that had once been... feathers? Mesh? _Something_ , fanning out from the rods. There were ports and openings in the main spine of the rod, too - precisely machined openings to the inner cavity whose purpose she couldn't divine.

The Fireskinned had been using it as an unbreakable spear. The waste of potential was almost enough to make a person cry.  
  


>   
> Inks: (A fishing net/rod?)  
> Inks: (But neat!)  
> Inks: (Now I gotta worry about the tools, huh?)  
> ST: ((Int+Craft, Diff 5, to diagnose what you need to work it with.))  
> Inks: !ex 10 +5; [6, 7, 8, 10, 10, 1, 6, 7, 1, 5] was rolled for 12 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Threshold 7)  
> 

  
  
The tools she had on hand, Inks concluded, would be enough. Well, in the hands of anyone else they wouldn't. But she could make even these masterwork tools do things beyond their skill. No, the tools weren't the problem. The _problem_...

"Ggyyyyyyaaaaagh!" yelled Vahti, pouring all her energy into intensifying the flame in the forge. The interior - normally a lava-like red-orange glow - was instead a solid incandescent white bar from pound after pound of high-quality fuel and the best efforts of a Fire elemental. Anyone sticking a hand in there wouldn't even feel it. The nerves would be gone before they had a chance to fire.

Inks waited for a few more minutes, and pulled the orichalcum rod out.

The golden sheen maybe looked a little brighter than it had before going in.

"So..." Vahti panted from where she was draped over the anvil. "I'm getting... the impression... that it's not... about temperature." She fumbled at a bottle of water and tipped it over her face, getting about a tenth of it in her mouth. "Know any... local volcanoes... then?"

And that was the rub, wasn't it? Lore said that orichalcum needed either lava, or sunlight so bright as to burn stone in order to work it. And Rankar Peak was extinct.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Lulz! Good use of Vahti)  
> 

  
  
Inks could still feel the sweltering heat through her bindi, so she made similar lethargic grabby motions for another jug and joined Vahti in on the wet and relaxing gesture. "PFwaawwhhh... Several. Most of them days or weeks away."

The various bystanders, industrial hands and similar metalworkers in the local smith's plaza turned to stare. That was it. They just turned and stared.

"I _might_ be able to call upon some Okidaci to help though..."|| She hummed, thinking about local magma sources alongside the potential utility of fire and stone dancers.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+Lore for Volcanoes in the area, int+occult for Okidaci theory, using OMTT)  
> ST: ((Diff 2 for the volcanos - they're hard to miss - and Diff 4 for the okidaci theory.))  
> Inks: !ex 10; [9, 4, 9, 3, 3, 8, 4, 10, 8, 7] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> Inks: !ex 8; [2, 2, 7, 10, 4, 6, 10, 8] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> ST: ((So, Rankar Peak is pretty much the only large volcanic structure around - the closest others are the baby volcanoes in the low foothills of the Firepeaks, and honestly if you're going that far already you might as well just ask Tekutali if you can use his. As to the okidaci; sadly a no-go - while a sorcerously-created lava-spounting volcanic vent would work; it's the essence dragged up from the dragon lines deep in the earth that allows lava to soften the sacred metal of the sun; mere molten rock that's been liquefied by heat doesn't have that nature.))  
> ST: ((However, Gem _does_ get a lot of sun. It would just be a matter of how to concentrate it, if she wanted to make a sun-forge.))  
> Inks: (Alright, so... if I make a sunforge, I'm gonna want to parlay it as a prototype for the eventual Big One I make.)  
> Inks: (Hmm... int+Craft w/ polished mirrors, maybe throw in Elemental Empowerment: Sun on the mirrors- it basically uplifts Quality in the one mode)  
> Inks: (Alright, gonna stunt that. Writing!)  
> ST: ((You're adding a "set up prototype sun-forge" action to your season here, but it's a Minor and you only had one Major down anyway, so that's fine.))  
> 

  
  
Having made the cursory calculations, Inks started planning in earnest. She was more interested in creating a small scale proof of concept versus something to scale. Either way it was a good side project.

The mirrors had to be carefully calculated parabolas, silver and polished to perfection with backings coated in the finest light-blocking pigments drawn from the deeper earths and tinctures of Gem. Runes etched on these back faces helped focus the sun's rays...

On top of that, she still had nominal access to the facilities on Rankar Peak, and unshuttering them for a small project was hardly a chore. She even invited Jad Raheem to observe, knowing he'd be both a great help in organizing manual labor, and reverently interested in the acutal proceedings.

Ignoring the need for a sundial, Inks calculated the optimal angles and times to work, with Vahti helping prepare the area by warming and drying the air above the crucible.

The acutal working area would be small, and the whole assembly required at least two mirrors- one to melt the salvaged metal, and the other to keep the crucible hot enough to keep the Orichalcum flowing. But finally she was ready and prepared!  
  


>   
> Inks: (Brb, stunt and pool?)  
> ST: ((Hmm. Okay. A true orichalcum forge probably shouldn't be this easy to set up, so... hmm. Heh. You happy with this being a oneshot - the mirrors will warp from the heat they're reflecting and probably eventually melt, but it'll give you enough time for the project.))  
> ST: ((?))  
> Inks: (Totally fine, I don't even mind having to remake the mirrors, especially if I can remake them more easily next time)  
> ST: ((Cool. In that case, +3 stunt for this, and Diff 5 +3 external penalty from time crunch and available materials to get this thing working well enough. Also, remind me if Inks has that environmental hazard defence?))  
> Inks: (She does not, but I'll cast Skin of Bronze to get some Hardness to deal with it)  
> ST: ((Indeed. And also use tongs.))  
> ST: ((Roll away.))  
> Inks: (Also Holy Goldsmith applies, so -1 difficulty for working/makign Orichalcum?)  
> Inks: !ex 23 -3; [1, 4, 1, 4, 5, 9, 9, 9, 4, 9, 2, 9, 6, 5, 6, 4, 8, 7, 5, 9, 9, 3, 2] was rolled for 6 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (Hmmm... That works! Threhsold 1 or 2)  
> ST: ((Nice.))  
> 

  
  
With the mirrors set up and the sun aligned, Inks held her breath as the sunbeams converged on her improvised crucible. They weren't just the visible sunbeams that came down through dark rooms from windows. Concentrated and focused by the mirrors, these were bright enough that she could see the golden colour to the light; their edges as sharply and starkly defined as the light and shadows of El Galabi.

The forge, hewn from the toughest, densest, most heat-resistant stone she could get her hands on, began to glow. First a dull red. Then orange. Then yellow. Then white; blinding and incandescent. Even the _outside_ of the forge was glowing. Inks' sharp eyes could already see tiny, miniscule deformations starting to form in the walls - it wouldn't collapse any minute, but this slapdash foundry was able to survive the heat it was being forced to tolerate, long-term.

It didn't matter, though. Because she could see the indistinct shape in the blinding glare starting to soften.

She wouldn't have long. In either sense. She wouldn't be able to forge the whole thing now, and if she tried, the forge would crack from extended heat exposure and the mirrors would melt. So she'd have to use it in bursts whenever she needed to soften the orichalcum, and then shut it down and let it cool while she worked. She'd be limited both in the length of time each burst could last, and in the number she got before the whole thing gave up.

So, working under time pressure with no allowance for mistakes. No problem. Inks was good at that.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Lulz)  
> Inks: (Alright, so Minor 'Build a prototype smelter' is done. Major: Craft Me some Sick-ass-boots.)  
> ST: ((Indeedy. So, this is a strategic action. Dex+Craft, Diff 5+2. Holy Goldsmith applies. Blueprints give you a +2.))  
> Inks: (No excellency, essentially)  
> ST: ((Correct.))  
> Inks: (Let's get that stunting)  
> 

  
  
Improvised, slapdash, ad-hoc. Pipera would likely have been throwing fits if she were seeing what Inks was up to. Days- weeks of labor. Painstaking craftsmanships. Prototype after prototype. Inks made a point of hand-shaping every component she could in basic iron and steel, fabricating mockups and testing them for fit and compatibility.

From the tiniest fastener to the largest ornate, decorative panel, she rehearsed, sketched and obsessed over the smallest detail. Her baths were maybe in some ways grander, but this would be the most complex project she had attempted yet.

Vahti was a treasure, watching the crucible and keeping the mirrors from sagging until the last minute. Day by day Inks took her blanks and prototypes, crafted molds of blessed sands and powders. Poured, poured and poured- She could not sweat, for her skin was bronze.

The magic would sit in the metal, but there was yet more to the construct- enchanted ironwoods donated by Sulieman from one of his older vessels for the heel itself, supple leathers enlivened by Bidiha and Simya's fleshcrafting- a dozen other minor flourishes and tricks...

Her work would be beautiful, be grand, be flawless and functional. It would be _Herself_.  
  


>   
> ST: ((3-die stunt for literally making an artifact _in public_ over the course of a month _in sorcerous bronze armour_.))  
> ST: ((Also, just to note, Inks is very expensively not-entirely-figuratively burning quite a lot of money she put into getting the materials for this improv sunforge. :P))  
> ST: ((She can do it again in an emergency, but it's not cheap.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, but it's so thematic, isn't it?)  
> Inks: (Any tool/assistant bonuses?)  
> Inks: (dex 2 craft 5 +3 style, +3 stunt otherwise... that's 13d. Probably gonna channel Conviction for +5d)  
> Inks: !ex 18; [5, 3, 3, 2, 8, 3, 10, 5, 4, 2, 4, 1, 7, 10, 8, 1, 7, 9] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> ST: ((Master bonus for Holy Goldsmith applies.))  
> Inks: (Well, Guess I didn't need any extra)  
> ST: ((So reduced to Diff 6. 3 threshold. Nice!))  
> 

  
  
It's as Inks finishes the last crucial orichalcum part - oh, there's still a lot of fiddly assembly to do, and a fair number of other parts to finish, but the orichalcum is all done - that Piercing Sun shows up. There could be many reasons for him being here. He might be wanting to talk about Pipera's negotiations with him on the matter of the Rangers' contract. He might be delivering his strategy for the assault on the city. He could want to arrange more training in advance of the campaign.

But given the circumstances, Inks is pretty sure he's here because she's been doing something big and flashy with blinding rays of sun and incandescent heat in the middle of the foundry district for more than a month, and he wants to poke his nose in and see what's going on.  
  


>   
> Inks: (I'm game for this, but I was originally intending Inks to have made all of this in the mothballed hepatizon facility.)  
> Inks: (but if I can do it 'in Gem', all the better)  
> Inks: (Anyway! Replying)  
> 

  
  
Her dress had burnt off. Again.

Bronze-skinned, topless, and more than a little exhausted, Inks gathered the last cast and enchaned piece of her project along with the rest on the silk-lined tray- consecrated as to prevent contamination from foreign Essences.

Vahti was at her side, with a jug of water at the ready- Inks poured it over her head and hair, letting out a sputtering breath as Piercing Sun approached. She offered the old exalt a sunny, pleased smile. "Nice to see you in Gem. How are you doing?"

He snorted. "Come to see what the ruckus was. Sunforge, eh, girl?" He seems to know what it is, which is... surprising, actually. There's a shriek of tortured metal as one of the mirrors collapses; warped too far from the heat to remain functional, and Inks' assistants hastily re-angle the rest of them to shut the forge down for the last time. Given the state of the crucible; blackened and charred and sun-bleached with cracks running through it... it probably only had one use left in it anyway. If that.

"Mhm!" Content to let the water run off her skin and for the sun to dry her, Inks nodded. "I needed to work some Orichalcum for this little project. I hope to have it finished soon. Within the week." She stretched, arms above her head before pulling her hair out of it's customary style. Shaking out her wet (bronze) braids, she let her hair fall down past her waist. "Ahhh... It was expensive but worth it, I think. I hope to make a bigger more permanent one later."

"Hah!" Piercing Sun barked. "Seen one of them before, more'n a century ago. Up on Blue Peak." He gestured vaguely westward, towards the Coxati. "Some scavenger lord fixed it up to work again; started shining beams of sunlight bright enough t'light a city on fire all over the mountains. Threatened Gem with it, the bastard."

His grin was an awful thing. "So the Despot - not this one; his grandfather - sent me after him. The scavenger brat didn't expect me to climb the mountain with my old wall-walking boots and crush him under his own disc, did he? Good times, good times." He nods in fond reminiscence for a moment, and then shrugs.

"Course, I was a young man back then," he added with an wry grin. "Didn't know the mirror was holding the whole blasted thing together. Had to run pretty fast as the whole thing went up like the sun - tanned my back like leather for months."

He seemed to consider things for a moment. "This permanent forge of yours. You'd build it up on the Peak?"

"I'm of two minds." Inks admitted. "Better to say it's where the mirrors are: down here in the caldera, or up here on the peak." She inclined her head towards the mountain above.

"One is harder to use for industrial purposes, but can be well, weaponized. I'm not explicitly against that on principle, but there are political dimensions."

He grinned again, ornery and malevolent. Like the river dragons that lurked in the hot sands and warm waters of the salty rivers along the coast. "Build it up there anyway," he said, voice dark with promise. "No need to let anyone know it can work as a weapon. Blue Peak's long out of memory for most."  
  


>   
> ST: ((piercing sun advice best advice~ :P))  
> ST: !ex 13; [4, 2, 7, 1, 7, 6, 10, 5, 3, 2, 9, 9, 3] was rolled for 6 successes.  
> 

  
  
"Like I said, not explicitly against it on principle-" She rounded on him then, looking him dead in the eye. "And if I do end up building it on the mountain, I expect that you will be _circumspect_ and not blab about it out of some misguided attempt to start a fight."

"Aye, aye, I know how operational security works, girl," he huffed. "And the value of a secret weapon - 'specially a defensive one. A mirror like that could burn any army to try and besiege the city."

Smiling, Inks nodded. "You'll have to forgive me, Sun." Inks let out a short laugh. "You come off as somewhat singularly bellicose. I have to be certain."|

He grunted, but there was a touch of a smirk to his face, so it was probably a fond one. "Anyway," he said. "I also came to tell you that your Dragonblood's got the contracts finished, signed and sealed. The Rangers will be with you when you move out; we can lend four hundred to the campaign. Supply and transport are on your side of the agreement."

"Much obliged!" Oh dear. Transport. She wouldn't be able to lead that many people herself. A fraction of them, sure, but not all at once...

He nodded, apparently divining her thoughts with another smirk. "I'll leave that with you, then," he said. "My plans for the city assault are almost finished - I'll send 'em over with your bird. There are a few different strategies we can take depending on the conditions on the day - which one we use will be your choice, of course. _Commander_." Ah, and _there_ was the malicious amusement glittering in the old bastard's eyes. She had been wondering when it would show up.

"Mean old sand dragon." Inks huffed, not unkindly. "No. I appreciate your advice and input. Was there anything else? I have to keep going while the parts are still warm, or the enchantments will spoil."

"Nothing else," he shrugged. "I'll leave you to your footwear. Just be sure you can fight in 'em!" he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away. Presumably to terrorise someone else.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Lulz. Very nice)  
> 

  
  


* * *

  
  


>   
> Inks: (I think we're both fading fast, so let's just handle the other strategic rolls real quick, and then I'd like to do the Reveal of the shoes to Pipera and Vahti?)  
> ST: ((So. You can check up with your allies on how theirs are doing, yes. And manage the reveal at the same time. Go ahead. :3))  
> Inks: (So Tatters rolls [Whatever at Diff 2] to train the exorcists. Pipera rolls int+bur at Diff 7 for food/supplies, and int+Bur Diff 3 for Contracts?)  
> Inks: (Pipera's pool for int+bur is like 13 right?)  
> ST: ((4+5+3 Style, sometimes with bonus, yes.))  
> Inks: !ex 13 "Supplies"; [3, 6, 5, 6, 4, 9, 9, 3, 10, 9, 3, 5, 4] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((Haaaaang on.))  
> Inks: (hanging)  
> ST: ((Pipera has charms that modify her roll.))  
> ST: ((So, Tatters is rolling Charisma+Occult to TEACH THAUM STUFF. This is the simpler one; she's rolling at Diff 7 to get a full Mag 5 unit trained, or more practically at Diff 2 with her thresholds dictating how many she produces.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, so I'll ignore the above pipera roll then, for now)  
> ST: ((Her pool is Cha 5 + Occult 4 + 3 Death-Rebuking Reckoning + 2 stunt = 14.))  
> Inks: !ex 14; [8, 10, 8, 1, 2, 9, 9, 1, 2, 3, 1, 10, 5, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
> ST: ((And she neatly trained up a Mag 5 unit - in fact, she goes one better and trains the entire four-hundred-strong Ranger force in the Style.))  
> ST: ((Or, well, the four hundred Rangers that will be taking part in the El Galabi assault.))  
> Inks: (Hot damn.)  
> ST: ((Tatters is VERY MOTIVATING.))  
> ST: ((She is not a sexy teacher, she is a LEARN THIS OR MONSTROUS HUNGRY GHOSTS WILL EAT YOUR FACE WHILE YOU'RE STILL ALIVE teacher.))  
> Inks: (Hahaha)  
> ST: ((Next, Pipera. She's rolling at Diff (Magnitude 7) to provide supplies the whole army that are intended to be supplemented by Food the Aerial Table.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> ST: ((Her pool is 4+5+3+2 stunt, and she's applying Confluence of Savant Thought to know exactly where and who to go to for food stockpiles, Geese-Flying-South Administration to get a super-motivated staff to help her, and Finding the Water's Depths to be as efficient as possible in buying up all the spare food locally.))  
> ST: ((This gives her a +3 assistant bonus, raising her pool to 17, and drops the Difficulty to 6.))  
> Inks: (Neat!)  
> Inks: (Rolling now?)  
> ST: ((Yup!))  
> Inks: !ex 17; [7, 2, 7, 4, 3, 9, 1, 9, 9, 4, 7, 4, 3, 9, 6, 3, 3] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> ST: ((Nice! Open the scene as you wish.))  
> Inks: (did you roll for the contracts earlier?)  
> ST: ((Yes.))  
> ST: ((Hence why Piercing Sun reported them successful.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 

  
  


* * *

"Ladies!" Inks's voice called out from the darkened shadows of her courtyard. Torches and glowstones with mirrored backings cast light in a narrow path across the ground, and the bubbling waters of her baths seemed to sparkle in the fading light of day. "Feast your eyes on glorious perfection!"

Vahti and Pipera were there, waiting with their backs to Inks's customary courtyard table, with diametrically opposed expressions. Vahti- the picture of lusty anticipation. Pipera; cool aloof resignation. Inks took one step into the light, and when her foot hit the floor, a glass crystal note rang out.

Each measured catwalk stride was another note in a building composition, striking and striving bolder and bolder with every sway of her hips. Inks stalked the improvised catwalk to Vahti's louder, raucous cheering and Pipera's fingers massaging the bridge of her nose.

Coming up to the table, dressed in her glamorous finest silks, Inks hiked one leg up on the table and planted her artifact-clad foot there for all to see- "Behold the proof of my genius!"

Orichalcum filigree, expertly sculpted and cast pieces that interlocked with such intricate articulation. Enchanted leather and finest silk threading with enchantments for coolness and comfort in all climes. "I have made no greater work than these thus far." Inks intoned.

"If I were to do so, I would need to peel stars from the sky and cast them in pure sex. As it stands, I give you ladies a pair of Sapphire Panther Boots!"

"If they mark the floors; you're fixing them," said Pipera flatly. But she had that particularly jaded expression on, which meant she'd resorted to pulling on her dragon's blood to deliberately refuse to be impressed! That was the same as gasping in awe! Or at least it was basically an equivalent, for Pipera, who liked being mean.

As to the other awed witness...

... why was Vahti lying on the floor in front of her?

"Step on me, pretty lady~" the fire duck purred. "With your sexy sexy boots. Ooo! Wait!" She sat up. "If they're panther boots; is Maji going to get jealous?"

A glance sideways at the completely disinterested - and in fact currently napping - tiger indicated that no, he probably wasn't.

"Ahahahahah" Inks howled, bracing herself against the table as tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm not into that kind of thing, Vahti. But I appreciate the effort."

"Ah well," Vahti sighed dramatically, swooning back onto the floor. "I'll have to steal them away, then, and find another pretty lady to wear them all over me. So, whadda they do?"

"They're _ridiculously comfortable_ for one." Inks laughed, tapping her foot against the ground and making a big show of the high stiletto heel. "No way would I handle these without some extra magic- but!" She willed the shoes to change, and the filigree unfurled into something more martial and clearly protective, up to just below her knee. "I can either in the first mode, be a hot glam bitch and stun people with my sex appeal- or in combat, I can be a _motivational presence_ and improve unit discipline. And I can kick shit really hard."

"Show me show me show me!" Vahti demanded. "The hot glam bitch thing, not the kicking thing." She pauses. "Well, actually-"

" _Just_ the social effects, thank you," Pipera put in, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We live here."

Willing the shoes back to their glamorous mode, Inks nodded. "Then- here we go!"

She sauntered around, imagining that her home was packed with socialites, that she had an audience and an agenda and that everyone wanted a piece of her time. One strut, two, hips swaying and shaking. Inks's footsteps echoed off the courtyard walls and pillars, and even caused ripples in her baths!  
  


>   
> Inks: !ex 10 "Join Debate via App + Socialize as per the artifact against imagined opponents."; [6, 5, 9, 1, 5, 8, 10, 8, 10, 1] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

  
  
"Ooooooo~" purred Vahti, eyes wide and cheeks flushing. "I _like_ it."

Pipera seemed less affected; her world-weary jaded air shrugging off the influence, but she tipped her head in a nod nonetheless. "Very nice," she said. "And they make you taller, too - as if you needed it. I assume this means your personal armour is complete for the assault?"

"That's correct-" She broke off into a sudden jog, moving much faster than before. "The boots are also enchanted for improved running and marching gait- so I'm not so damn slow when it comes to a throwdown."

Pipera gave her the thinnest blade of a smile. "Well then," she said. "One step closer to ending that place once and for all."  
  


>   
> ST: ((End session))  
> Inks: (Fun!)  
> ST: ((4xp+1xp for great RP and stunts + 1mxp + 1 Sxp))  
> Inks: Thank you for sticking out the heat and exhaustion  
> ST: ^_^  
> 

  
  



	66. Session 66: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 9

Up north, the season of Earth is a farming season. It's when men plow and till the fields and plant seeds as temperatures climb from winter's chill, sometimes bringing in the first harvest of the year late in the season.

Not so in Gem, where all the food comes from imports or sources like the mushroom caverns underground, which grow year-round without care for the climate above. Still, the season is something Inks notes as she makes her preparations. Her recruits from Gem are all standing military who care little for the farming year, but Etiyadi's forces; critical to warding off Pangasutri... they will no doubt be needed for labour-intensive harvests during Wood and Fire.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Interesting! Good world-building note)  
> 

  
  
With an eye on the seasons, and lessons from Piercing Sun, Inks knew that weather was often a critical if not deciding factor in military campaigns. In one of the second floor side rooms of her manor, Inks planned for her campaign to El Galabi.

The chamber itself was a riot of papers, maps and military designs, a number of them just diagrams with shorthand notation that while not coded, would be missing swaths of context from the casual observer- warded against scrying, Inks was fairly confident that only an infiltrator could get in.

Dominating the center was not a map, but a topographical sculpture of El Galabi and it's surroundings, along with handcrafted pieces representing Inks's hypothetical forces. Most were by her hand. Some were contributions of the various soldiers and Rangers she'd met in the past year.

Still others were Vahti's playfully crude or at times scandalously lewd attempts at 'bodacious bodyguard babes with sick abs and-'. Nabijah had scoffed at the little figurines as 'soft-skinned annoyances'.

Walking around her mapping table, Inks eyed a calendar on the wall with a will. "The season to strike, the day of the assault..."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Okay! Int+Bur/War check to plan out when the Best Time to attack is. Accounting for what's easiest for herself/her allies or hardest for her enemies or both!)  
> Inks: (I remember that as per your take on the Dead, they behave differently under Moonlight, and are damaged by sunlight baring some exceptions.)  
> ST: ((Yup. So, "naked" ghosts - namely those not possessing a body or corpse - take hilarious amounts of damage from sunlight, and take mental penalties from moonlight. If they're "clothed", both effects are reduced, but are still present to some degree.))  
> Inks: (So, stunt on the above roll, difficulty, penalties?)  
> ST: ((Okay, hmm. What exactly are you looking for? Because "best" is a variable definition - like, whether to go with a noon attack or a full moon attack is basically up to you; they're both advantageous in different ways and it's a value judgement as to which you'd favour.))  
> Inks: (Specifically based on the seasonal planning you mentioned and harvests, I'm trying to identify if there is an... ideal point to schedule the attack. Like- sooner, so Etiyadi's forces can go back home in time for harvest, or after the harvest, so all the soldiers are free to go to war.)  
> Inks: (Or if doing one/the other would impact Pangasutri more readily and make him less able to attack)  
> ST: ((Ah, cool. Okay, Diff 1 - Inks is in trade, she knows a lot about harvest times.))  
> Inks: (Rolling 22d int+bur via 1st excelleny then, assuming +2 stunt)  
> Inks: (11 sux, ded even)  
> ST: ((Lol.))  
> 

  
  
Food was the issue, Inks decided. Food was the balance that would swing her campaign. The planting season started in the middle of Earth - less than a month from now. There was no way she could get an army together and march on El Galabi before _that_. But that was okay. Planting didn't require as many people as harvest, and could probably be done even with her depletions.

From then on, the longer she took, the worse it would be for her. This far sound, the growing season was short. What extended from late Earth all the way through into early Air in the Hundred Kingdoms was compressed down at Gem's latitude to a short burst starting in the middle of Earth and lasting until the first season of Fire. Descending Wood to Ascending Fire were the primary harvest seasons - Etiyadi would need as many hands as she could get during that period. By extension, so would Pangasutri - both Coxati lords would find their forces depleted.

But leaving it until afterwards wasn't an attractive option, either. The harvest season was short this far south because the heat of Fire was brutal beyond anything Inks had ever experienced back home in Nexus. If she waited that long, the heat that made crops wither in the fields and die parched would scour any marching army and drain them of energy, water and probably numbers. The Dead wouldn't care for the oppressive heat - or at   
least, not in any way related to human frailties - but her troops would suffer. And putting it off until next year... that was risky indeed.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Hmm... So what I'm hearing is 'Earlier is better' and 'Late is awful'?)  
> ST: ((So, basically, it's a sliding scale. The longer you wait from late Earth up to the start of Fire, the more people Etiyadi needs for harvest - but the same applies to Pangasutri. Trying to mount a campaign in Fire means getting hit with brutal environmental penalties from sun and heat.))  
> Inks: (Hmm... )  
> ST: ((Yes, though late does allow you full numbers, since harvest will be over.))  
> Inks: (There's no obvious sorcery spell to solve this problem- even Sleep of Stony Safety is limited to [Essence] magnitude, 4 in this case.)  
> ST: ((Thaum equipment could help mitigate it, if you were inclined that way.))  
> Inks: (True enough, but I'll be focusing more on anti-dead gear than weather gear, since I can more readily make that. Hmm.... Since most of the infrastructure is already there, just shuttered, I could in theory restart the Hepatizon facility, get some Herenhals to make the actual Gear, and then use Elemental Empowerment (Solar) to enchant them?)  
> Inks: (Would that be worthwhile, or is it just good enough to buy/make common weapons and bless them w/ sorcery?)  
> ST: ((Yeah, the latter works fine.))  
> Inks: (Alright... Can we use HDT to backdate the acquisition of weapons then, since that seems like the kind of hting we could/should have done?)  
> Inks: (weapons and armor, basically)  
> Inks: (Back in session 65's interval, I mean, since I didn't actually think to use HDT last session)  
> ST: ((Hmm. You had a free action then, yes?))  
> Inks: (Basically last season, I took a minor and major, and no HDT-derived actions, because I couldn't think of anything-and we focused more on splitting the actions up via delegation)  
> Inks: (So instead of Inks doing everything, we had tatters train the exorcists (successfully!) Pipera do contracting and 'foodstock' acquisition, which I modified by way of Sorcery, and then the minor/trivial actions of 'Craft her shoes')  
> ST: ((In that case yes, sure. And happily, Gem has a _hilariously large_ mercenary market, so there's no external penalty against stockpiling large numbers of weapons. You're trying to equip a Mag 7 force, so Diff 4 to get your hands on them all.))  
> Inks: (That's a strategic action though, so no excellency. No innate penalty so Insightful Buyer won't help...)  
> ST: ((Oh, hmm. Hang on.))  
> ST: ((Inks owns a lot of business in the hard-industrial areas of Gem, right?))  
> ST: ((+2 external bonus, then.))  
> Inks: (Yey!)  
> Inks: (so 10 +2)  
> Inks: (8sux, Threshold 4!)  
> ST: ((Inks gets a good deal, which combined with her "I own the supplier" discount brings the combined food, weapons and projected transport/medical costs for this campaign down to merely a one-time Res 6 expenditure for the whole thing.))  
> Inks: (Neat! That reminds me, how much did the sun furnace cost?)  
> Inks: (...that also reminds me that we never actually sat down and figured out Inks's income streams since the soft reset back in Session 51)  
> ST: ((Fuck.))  
> ST: ((Remind me to do that.))  
> Inks: (we'll figure something out, eventually)  
> Inks: (How about I commit last seasons 2nd HDT action to auditing and re-organizing Inks's assets, so we can in-character justify the restructuring and refinancing of her accounts! OOH! Okay no this is great.)  
> Inks: (Okay, basically my idea here, is that as Iblan Inks, a lot of her assets are being...folded into the Iblan name and treasury. That is to say that via her, the Iblans are acquiring various 'Out of Monopoly' assets.)  
> ST: ((Hmm.))  
> Inks: (Functionally it means we can consolidate a lot of Inks's disparate Resources backgrounds if necessary into 'Iblan' and 'Not Iblan' or transmute them otherwise. WE don't have to commit to any specific result right now though)  
> ST: ((Yeah, okay, that works.))  
> Inks: (This is just me thinking out loud about something reasonably in-character/setting based on what we have)  
> Inks: (So, ballpark difficulty/penalty for the audit?)  
> ST: ((And if when we work through it you turn out to have overdrawn on the Iblan Treasury, there's the fairly simple resolution of "donating" the rest of the orichalcum to the House.))  
> Inks: (yeah)  
> ST: ((We'll handle that OOC outside of session time rather than roll it now, since we haven't gone through it and totalled up what she's spent on what, so put a pin in that.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha, then Inks has gotten all the gear she needs, so this session is gonna be Strategic about getting it all enchanted,and then fun in character moments.)  
> ST: ((You're up to post and continue that time-planning.))  
> Inks: (Invoking Pipera mainly as a sounding board)  
> 

  
  
"Hmmm..." Inks tapped her foot, and the distinct chime of crystal on lacquered wood filled the room with a gentle tone.

Down below, Inks could hear the faint sing-song carol- "Step on me pretty lady~"

To that, Inks sighed with a grin. "Oh Vahti...." 

"Not hardly-" Pipera intoned, easing through the doorway and re-securing the room against eavesdropping. "I verified that order of arms and armor. How goes your planning?

To that, Inks swanned around to a somewhat incongruous chaise lounge and draped herself across it, a picture of elegant sensual hedonism in stark contrast to the military panphernalia all around. "Eh. It goes. I have a very narrow window it seems. Unless I figure out how to make a campaign in the height of summer bearable, I have to prepare to march within four to six weeks."

Pipera pursed her lips. "Well," she said slowly after a moment, "the preliminary agreements with the Gem-based forces are all ironclad. The only group you have yet to contact are... the deyha." She scowled. "I suppose Nabijah's group won't be enough for you?"

"No- and as much as I have a personal stake in them, they're young and largely unblooded." Inks agreed. "I know you have contacts in Cahzor, but you tended to avoid the Deyha directly, right?"

"Whenever possible," Pipera agreed dryly. "For some reason, dealing with violent, unpredictable, brutish hyena-women was not high on my list of things to do there."

"Logical. So with that in mind- My impression of Cahzor is that it has essentially two broad cultures or polities, the Sugun and the Deyha matriarchy?"

"Correct," Pipera agreed. "And I would advise dealing solely with the deyha, and that only at a distance. The Jansi remember Elemi Piercing Sun, and not kindly. Your name is tied to his. If you want deyha troops, I would advise making contact with Raiah Laughing-Steel at a distance. Or, perhaps..."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks can fill in the rest of that thought as 'send Nabijah to rally more deyha to her own banner'.))  
> Inks: (Raiah Laughing-Steel is Nabijah's mother, right? Or did I mis-recall?)  
> ST: ((Correct. She's the head bitch in charge - legendary for having so many daughters, and no sons.))  
> ST: ((Sending Nabijah has pros and cons to it - which you and Pipera can talk about if you're interested in it.))  
> Inks: (Aye, doing so)  
> 

  
  
"I could send Nabijah." Inks finished for Pipera. "Which has all kinds of interesting consequences, good and bad. At Pipera's thin-lipped nod, Inks continued. "For one, she's the youngest, her sisters are known for mugging her and taking her stuff..."

"And my grasp of Deyha culture implies that her mother can and will beat her daughter down- any of her daughters, if they start making waves."

"Yes," Pipera acknowledged. "But, on the other hand... how much have you been following Nabijah's progress in Gem's arenas?"

"Clearly not enough." Inks sat up, eyes sparkling with interest. "I smell delicious gossip and prowess."

Pipera smirked. "She's been doing well. Alarmingly well, actually - her lessons from Piercing Sun have taken. I can't say how well she measures up to her mother or her eldest surviving sisters, but I suspect that the younger ones, if they were to try and bully her... might find themselves uncomfortably surprised. And with you having healed the scars they left on her, that crippling-magic she has won't work against her, either." She paused, letting Inks consider that. "The gamble," she added, "would be exactly how good she's become, whether she has the self-control and luck not to get into a fight she couldn't win, and whether she could leverage a decided win over one of her sisters into swaying their warband to her banner."

"Hmm... Then what can we do to stack the odds in her favor, I wonder?" Inks leaned forward, and together the pair got to _planning_.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So Nabijah's scar trick is symmetrical?)  
> Inks: (Scars she inflicts let her own others, plus scars on herself?)  
> ST: ((Pipera is theorizing that her elder sisters probably have a similar charm, and that they left maiming scars on her during their bullying to retain an advantage.))  
> ST: ((But Inks has healed those ones~))  
> ST: ((Which means they'll be expecting an advantage they no longer have. :3))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> 

  
  
  
  


>   
> ST: ((So basically, as a Nabijah strategic action, success would mean she comes back with a variably-sized warband that she took over after beating the shit out of one of her sisters, and failure would mean she got cocky and went after one of her _eldest_ sisters (or, if she was really dumb, her mother) and lost.))  
> ST: ((As an Inks/Pipera action, it would mean going and hiring them more conventionally, at considerably higher cost.))  
> ST: ((Also some risk of Jansi discovery if it were Inks going back to Cahzor.))  
> Inks: (So, leaning towards sending Nabijah, but I want to brief her first and make a big deal of not biting off more than she can chew, with some Trivial-Dramatic Action stuff.)  
> ST: ((Indeedy. Allow me...))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Talking to Nabijah was easier when the young deyha felt like she was on her home turf. As such, it was in the Circla arenas on Third Scorpion that Inks found her employee. She wasn't fighting today, and her status as a high-ranking gladiator merited her a box; high up above the bench seats with shaded windows looking out and down on the arena below. Two men were fighting even now; one of them a mercenary pair armed with spears and nets, the other... if Inks wasn't mistaken, that looked like a scorpion-rider from the Anam Way. It wasn't going well for the mercenaries.

Nabijah herself was sprawled out on a bench with her feet propped up on Muta's napping bulk, paying little attention to the fight in favour of a bottle of surprisingly high-class wine and a leg of lamb. She looked up when Inks entered and grinned.

"Nabijah," Inks grinned back, just as toothily. Maji prowled in behind her, giving the great hyena a contemptuous stare before dismissing her as not worth his time. "Muta." Inks added with a respectful nod.  
In her hands was a large bundle, wrapped in leather and edged in what looked like deep pressed gold leaf scrollwork and markings. She set it down with a deceptively heavy _thunk_ , and they all could hear the clink of metal inside.

That got the girl's attention. "Boss," she drawled, and took another bite of lamb. For all that her combat skills had improved, her bluffing hadn't. She was obviously trying to act nonchalant and unaffected, when she was anything but. "What's up?"

With an inner grin to match the one outside, Inks nodded. The Circla staff were happy to address her every unstated whim, and a new platter of treats was supplied for herself (and Maji) in a matter of moments.

There was a certain dominance display involved, using wildly different vocabulary. Inks was as always, dressed in her sensual best- flattering cuts and obvious attention drawn to her physicality and the tattoo that adorned her body. Nabijah by contrast was broad, buff, hardened by a life of combat athleticism and rich, nutrient dense foods. Her gear was similar, though she was not dressed entirely for a fight right then either.

So it was not without purpose, that Inks slinked around the box seats, finding her own place to spread out in a lazy, elegant sprawl that drew most every eye to her long legs, stunning curves and gorgeous face. Nabijah for her part was probably thinking about no accounting for taste, but Inks was sure she could see the power on display regardless.

"Mmmm.." Inks took a sip of the same wine Nabijah had, smirking. "What is up, indeed. A job. And a potential... swing in your fortunes. I have need of Deyha warriors." Inks declared.

"And I am tasking you with securing them. But before you go, we must discuss terms."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Inks be sexy dramatic)  
> ST: ((Rolled Valour, 2 sux...))  
> 

  
  
It was as depressing as it was predictable. Inks actually _saw_ the last sentence fly straight past Nabijah's head as her eyes lit up and she rolled to her feet, wine and lamb forgotten. Muta sprang upright as well, riled by her mistress's excitement.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Remind me, did you make them that sun-gear?))  
> Inks: (I did, ages ago yes)  
> Inks: (the armor, at least)  
> 

  
  
Eyes bright, teeth bared in a snarl that had nothing to do with humour but everything to do with ferocious glee, Nabijah gave a laugh that put truth to her family name. "All _right_ then!" she crowed. "I'm takin' that armour you made me and getting a _horde_. Maybe Inga's... no, no, _Fadeelah's_. I got _hide_ to take outta her."

To that, Inks called Chronicle to her outstretched hand, not moving one bit other than to let the blade appear in whorl of sunfire and drop in her stiff-armed grip to the floor. The massive arced tip of the blade sliced into the floor before Nabijah's feet, pausing her right then and there. "Hold fast, Bronze-Breaker. We're not done."

Muta rumbled threateningly, but the sight of the great blade was enough to make Nabijah - with visible effort - rein herself in. "What else d'you need to say? I go there, I beat the shit out of my sisters, I come back with a horde." She paused. "Whaddya want a horde for, anyway? I mean, like, now specifically, 'stead of just in general." The implication that a horde of brutish hyena-kin mercenaries was something anyone would want as a common-sense asset went unspoken.

"I plan to march on El Galabi, city of the restless dead." Inks dragged the weapon back across the floor, leaving a ruinous gouge in the (expensive) hardwood before propping the blace against her seat, in easy reach. The Circla staff, inured to such violence, were still there. A handsome servant offed her a grape to sample with a charming grin.

"If this were any other time, I would be less concerned about you learning a hard lesson about over-estimating your potential opponents." Inks allowed.

"Today though, I am on something of a strict schedule." She sat up and licked her lips, before kissing the servant's knuckles long enough to leave a tingling mark of paint on his skin. She looked Nabijah straight in the eye, all business now.

"So I want the horde first, and your aspirations of vengeance are... _optional objectives_. Ones I want to help you achieve, but you've known me long enough- I have an eye on the long view. You build the force I need, you _pick your battles with care_ , and we both are in a better position for _total victory_."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Rolling Temperance... 1 success!))  
> 

  
  
Shockingly, Nabijah actually seemed to be listening. She didn't _like_ what she was hearing, but she was listening to it.

"You're telling me not to fight my sisters," she grunted, scowl beginning to deepen resentfully. "How the fuck am I meant to get you any deyha if you want me to turn tail and run away from them?"

"Oh no, you misunderstand." Inks shook her head. "I am telling you to pick the fight that gets you best results for the lowest risk. And I don't mean the fight that makes you look bad- like picking on someone weaker than yourself."

A glimmer of vicious comprehension stole across her flat face. "You mean one of the younger ones," she said slowly. "Only a bit older than me. Like Intessar."

"Perhaps! You know your family and the hierarchy better than I do. I'm not even against you settling a few scores... and I would like to offer you a new weapon in your arsenal."

This earned Inks another broad grin, and it looked like Nabijah was starting to regain her high spirits. "Yeah?"

Maji knew a cue when he heard one, and reached out with one lazy paw to rake the leather bundle open. Steel spearheads and handsome dark wood shafts, short and long swords, knives. All bearing a similar golden sheen and runework enchantment. "You may see these as weapons- that's fine. They are. I plan to equip the deyha who join my campaign with similar gear, to fight against the Dead."

"But do not assume these are simple tools of war and bloodshed." Inks hooked a spear with her foot and flicked into the air before catching it. "This is an incentive. This is a something your sisters cannot beat you down and take. This is an _exclusive quality_ of Nabijah Bronze-Breaker, that you are allied with me, and that I can provide you with this."

"A year ago, you asked me what good does _trade_ do you? This is the answer." She stood up fully and twirled the spear with no small amount of skill, whirling it around until she stopped it with the point hovering in front of Nabijah's nose.

"Imagine victory, not because you have the stronger muscles or the bigger pack, but because your enemy _cannot even fight you_. If _you_ lose, your sisters get nothing from me. Nothing they can offer me will make up for the insult of your defeat or death."

Nabijah rumbled quietly, thinking on that. She didn't seem to be that attracted to the idea of winning without a fight, and Inks remembered that she'd been actively turned off by the thought of earning money without fighting. A victory earned without beating someone in a fight wasn't much of a victory worth having, to Nabijah's mind.

But the thought of a win her sisters _couldn't_ take from her, even if she lost... that seemed reassuring to her. Unsurprising, given how many prizes must have been snatched out of her hands after she'd earned them. And she definitely liked the look of the weapons. Picking up a heavy chopping sword, she took a few practice swings with it, grinning at the weight and balance.

"Yeah," she said. "Sure. These'll help seal the deal when I pound Intessar bloody. I can think of a lotta girls back home that'd want stuff like this. You'd heal their hyenas too?" she checked with a glance at Inks. "But not any scars I give 'em. Those stay. Discipline, and all that."

Inks nodded. She still wanted to make sure Nabijah understood her position without belaboring the point.. how to reframe the idea though...

"Call it leverage." Inks decided. "Call it a lesson in that there are ways to win that don't demand you knock teeth out- and more importantly, think of it like this-"

"With this leverage, your sisters are discouraged from _cheating_. Or maybe put another way, I'm helping you level the playing field. After that, it's all up to you and your judgement."

She used her spear to push the sword in Nabijah's hand down, so Inks could look her in the eye. "Do not disappoint me. "||

Nabijah nodded sharply. She... seemed to have gotten it. Time would tell, Inks supposed.

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, so Nabijah is off to Cahzor for her action this season.))  
> ST: ((What's Inks doing back in Gem?))  
> Inks: (Hmm... Mass enchanting the gear via Sorcery, however long that takes)  
> ST: ((Cool. That's... hmm. Call it a Minor.))  
> Inks: (So iirc the entire army is Mag 7, but it's not gonna be commanded as such  
> ST: ((Indeed.))  
> Inks: (Alright so that's a minor sorcery action to make mag 7 worth of arms/armor... Hmm... Is there anyway to get Bidaha involved on her path to Sorcery Sublimation?)  
> ST: ((Not really. Nothing legendary enough in knowledge terms to push her further than she's already got.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha... This might be a good experience for Vahti in her Sun/Venus explorations. I left her alone all of last season as well for self-discovery and personal work too)  
> Inks: (Lemme stunt this strategic action- the raw spell doesn't require a roll, but should we anyway to determine if Inks reaches her goal of a fully equipped army?)  
> ST: ((I'm planning to finish this session with her in a "ready to march" state.))  
> Inks: (Okay! So... no roll required then?)  
> ST: ((Oh, sorry, no. I meant time-wise. We should... hmm.))  
> ST: ((Yeah, she succeeded on the "supply weapons" roll, and the spell doesn't need one.))  
> ST: ((So that basically just autopasses.))  
> Inks: (Got it, nevermind then!)  
> ST: ((Describe away, though. :P))  
> 

  
  


* * *

Hinna's Lab had long since been refurbished and cleaned, both by hired help and Inks's own trusted staff. Vahti in particular had been instrumental in it's ritual purification and interior decor. A sun-lab based around sun-essence in a sunstruck part of Rankar Peak... she had something of a theme to work towards.

Now Inks had to help a great deal, as Vahti's own grasp of geomancy was limited, but in some ways that was better, the true novice helped Inks trace a learning curve that was full of insights for both of them.

Of course, Vahti being Vahti ensured there was a sufficient number of comfy chairs, benches, seats and beds for relaxing activities. Inks just smiled and shook her head. "Wild passionate sex *after* hard sunforged labor."

Now Hinna's lab (which needed to be renamed eventually), was set up primarily for alchemy, but it was still more than sufficiently potent to anchor Inks's sorcery in, so with Vahti assisting and Inks casting, the pair opened the various occuli for sun at the auspicious hours of the day, inscribing runes of sunlit power upon sword and armor, hour after hour, day after day, until it was done!||

"I hope you don't mind me saying this," Vahti commented as they sorted and packed the final load, "but I kind of never want to see another sunbeam again in my life. For, like, a while. Also clubs." She glared at the studded maces she was sorting. " _Gods_ , I never want to see maces again. Why do they have to be so _heavy?"_

Inks huffed with a nod, helping Vahti pack the last crate herself. When they were done, she slipped around behind the other woman to help massage her sore arms and shoulders. "I know the feeling. Let's get out of here and take a nice long soak."

* * *

Once they were back at the manor, Vahti slipped into the water with Inks and sighed happily. "We really need a better way to get from there to here and back," she complained, still whining playfully. "That lift is just _yuck_ , even after you rebuilt it. And it takes so loooooong."

"I'm working on it. I'm sure there's a spell..." Inks agreed with a lethargic sigh. "Pipera, we finished the arms and armor. All that's left is getting it all delivered. We're still waiting on Nabijah, right?"

"Nothing back from her yet," Vahti sighed. "She's either having the time of her life, or she got lost on the way back, or she bit off more than she could chew." She paused. "Or she ran into another fae and wound up caught in another illusion or something, or... well, whatever. Pips says she's not quite past her check-in window yet, just getting really close to it. Have you sent her any messages, or are you waiting for if she misses the deadline she was meant to be back by?"

"Hmm... I could. I'll give her a bit more time before I get worried." Inks allowed. She'd dropped into the waters fully dressed, so peeling out of her gown was an _interesting_ experience. Not a boring one. She fished her shoes out of the waters and set them aside as well.

Uncharacteristically, Vahti didn't ogle her while she did so - not even the shoes. Instead she was staring down at the water contemplatively and fidgeting a little, twisting her fingers together and chewing her lip.  
"You okay?" Inks cocked her head to one side, obviously concerned.

"... I've been reading some more," Vahti confesses. Ah. This is _shy_ Vahti. A rare and adorable occasion. "About... you know. Her. Venus."

"Yeah?" Inks was careful to moderate her interest- because she was interested. Both in the subject itself and in that Vahti was interested. She had to be careful not to overwhelm the other woman with her sheer force of personality.

"Yeah," Vahti says, smiling a little. "I like the Peacock. Not just 'cause it's a bird like me. For what it says. And... also the Musician." Her eyes flick up to Inks, looking for approval.  
  


>   
> Inks: (Lemme look those up real quick)  
> ST: ((Craft and Performance.))  
> ST: ((Craft is all about giving objects a destiny and making them part of a story and a narrative where they have a given role to play. Performance has themes of doing the same with people - of having a place and a path, and getting people to follow it.))  
> 

  
  
"I think those are fascinating philosophies." Inks agreed with a grin. "I can see why you'd be attracted to them."

Normally she'd have pulled Vahti in herself, but today she spread her arms in a broad invitation, for the other woman to join her in her lap. When Vahti did, Inks rested her chin on Vahti's head and nuzzled her hair. "So what would you like me to do?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((Int+Socialise to interpret that particular choice.))  
> Inks: (Throwing on 2nd socialize for 5 sux)  
> Inks: (6+5sux, 12!)  
> Inks: (7, sorry, 7+5)  
> 

  
  
The Peacock and the Musician, mused Inks. Interesting choices. The associations of the houses were strongly tied with fates and destinies; stories acted out and the paths their players followed. Which perhaps implied that Vahti... actually wasn't so much in line with Inks' own 'forge my own path' philosophy as she might have thought from having modelled herself off her. She wanted a story, she wanted a narrative - she wanted the security of a role to play and a path to follow.

And the scriptures... Inks dug into her memory for the sacred scriptures associated with the constellations. Obscure knowledge, yes, but she'd always liked the Maiden of Serenity, and 'Nanda had known a fair bit about her. The Scripture of the Dancer - acceptance of failure, of the joy of dancing poorly. 'Love has no rules'. And the Peacock... that was the Scripture of the Lover and Maiden. 'Love is what you make of it'; accepting something terrible and monstrous as a lover and embracing it, despite its hooks and fangs.

It was an interesting combination. And one that leaned somewhat away from the more carnal, sexual sides of Venus towards her aspects of outreach and diplomacy and acceptance - even with fearsome things that most would quail at, or call for the destruction of.

The question did occur - did Vahti see herself as the Lover, or the Maiden? And if the latter... what was she casting as the monstrous thing she might accept?

On the one hand Inks was concerned... A mild one to be certain, but a concern nonetheless. She knew enough of a Flame Duck's nature to understand their innate willfulness and independence, but also their reputation as a devout sorority- but that was a learned behavior...

It was a complex tangle of intrapersonal and cultural mores and who knew what else... "Did you have a... role in mind for yourself? These constellations sketch out a path after all, but not a proscription."

"I dunno yet..." Vahti mused. "I think... I think maybe I wanna start learning some dance and music, though. To know more, if you see what I mean? And maybe see if I can find any other places or things like your baths or the Broken Egg. Venus-y magic stuff."

"Maybe work with Sahlak Janissa and her House then?" Inks suggested. "Or would you rather I help you?" She smirked. "I can be as hands-on as you like as well."

That won a giggle. "Maybe both?" Shyness abating, Vahti scooted over into Inks' lap and threw her arms around her neck in a hug. "Thanks," she murmured. "Oh, and dibs on any Venusy artifacts you get your hands on!"

Giving the other woman a fond squeeze back, Inks grinned. "You do realize I can learn how to _make_ 'Venusy artifacts' too~?"

Vahti grinned cheerfully. "Yeah," she agreed. "But I already have dibs on those. Because you lo~ove me so much~"

"There's more than one kind of love..." Inks noted, and her voice grew oddly tender. "So yeah. I think I do."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((D'awww))  
> ST: ((Okay, what's left?))  
> Inks: (Nabijah returns, and we then have the 'march' to El Galabi with the fully combined force.)  
> Inks: (which hopefully happens before/During Respeldenent Earth, and Inkswill have sent word ahead to Xandia for the dams)  
> Inks: (and Etiyadi of course for the mustered troops)  
> ST: ((Cool. Then since it's getting late, we'll probably end this with Nabijah's return. So!))  
> ST: ((Nabijah is rolling Charisma+Melee for SISTERLY BEATDOWNS and BRAGGING RECRUITMENT.))  
> ST: ((She gets a +2 bonus from her awesome weapons, and rolls against whichever sister she encounters first, which will be a secret~ roll.))  
> ST: ((So, 10 dice; roll.))  
> Inks: (can she channel a WP or Virtue/Principle?)  
> ST: ((Yes, she can channel Valour 4.))  
> ST: ((And will do so.))  
> Inks: (kay, so 14d)  
> Inks: (Nine sux!)  
> ST: ((Nice. Now, the sister she encounters is... ooo, Inga. The second-eldest. I will roll in secret...))  
> ST: ((Okay, so. Nabijah does wind up missing her deadline - Inks will obviously send Maji as a messenger, but Nabijah has no way to respond. What will Inks' response be?))  
> Inks: (She sends Maji with instructions on how to contact her, and if you allow it, Inks will do the trick I did back in the underworld, having Maji tell me what he saw via the spell travel)  
> Inks: (and Pipera will be prepared to listen in)  
> ST: ((... what do you mean by "instructions on how to contact her? Oh, right, just speaking for Pipera to listen in on?))  
> Inks: (yes)  
> ST: ((Cool cool.))  
> 

  
  
Nabijah was late.

It wasn't something to panic about yet. But it was still concerning - the deadline had given her some leeway for a slow trip back. Inks sent Maji off with a message, and interrogated him when he got back as to where he'd gone - and luckily, it did at least seem that she was on her way back. The impressions Inks could read through their bond were ones of sand and the mountains to the west and the looming spire of Rankar's Peak on the   
horizon. She was probably only going to miss the deadline by a day or two.

Pipera was listening as Maji returned. "She sounds tired," she reported. "And annoyed. She says..." She frowned, sighed, and rolled her eyes. "That she feels stupid talking to thin air, so if you want to know how it went, you can - and I'm quoting here - 'come down the mountain and see for yourself if you can't wait a couple days'."

Inks blinked at that, and hummed. "Well, I'm up for a walk- two days? I bet we can make it in a few hours. Anyone feel like tagging along?" She looked to Pipera and Vahti.

Vahti grinned. "Sure! I'll come!"

Pipera seemed rather less inclined to get tired and sandy for the pleasure of subjecting herself to deyha company.

Trusting the townhouse (and the baths) to a gracious and competent Pipera, Inks clapped her hands with a laugh. "Onward then!"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Trackless Region Navigation to get out into the field.)  
> 

  
  
It winds up taking a more than a few hours - a little under a day. But it's not hard to zero in on Nabijah when they get close.

They just have to follow the dust plume.

Atop a rocky outcropping overlooking the sandy plains, Vahti lands beside Inks, reverts back to her human form, and stares.

"Wow," she says. "Just... wow."

Before them, _fifty_ mounted deyha riders travel towards the spire of Rankar's Peak; trading blows and taunts among themselves, laughing, racing, fighting and cursing the sun as they follow the proud and grinning figure at the forefront of their horde.  
  


>   
> ST: ((So, Inga had a pool of 9 + 2 equipment + Valour 5, but is taking a -3 internal penalty from the decidedly unpleasant shock of discovering that her puny little sister does not flinch, whimper and hesitate to attack her due to magical scarring, and a -3 _external_ penalty from the even _more_ horrible shock of OH GOD SUNFLAME HAZARD ARMOUR. 13 dice got her _11_ successes, and she would have won - and in fact _was_ winning - until Nabijah lit up like a solar bonfire and gave her first- and second-degree burns all down both arms and across half her face and torso.))  
> Inks: (Hot damn)  
> ST: ((Needless to say, this impressed a lot of deyha.))  
> ST: ((The youngest kid beat the _second-eldest_ , and maimed her. Badly.))  
> Inks: (Yeush!)  
> ST: ((The part where she offered similar weapons and armour to them pretty much just sealed the deal.))  
> Inks: (No kidding.)  
> 

  
  
"...Damn." Inks whistled. Hopping off the outcropping and not quite skidding down to meet the group, Inks whistled. "Nabijah! Bronze-breaker, how goes it?"

Sticking her fingers in her mouth, Nabijah blew a shrill, piercing whistle that cut through the still desert air like a knife. Fifty deyha came to a rowdy, disorganised halt and Nabijah swung herself off Muta to swagger forward.

"Boss," she grinned, looking smugger and more confident than Inks had ever seen her before. "Fucking _told_ you I could do it. Inga's nursing burns over half her dumb bitch face, and I got you fifty mounted deyha for your little scrap. Might as well not bother inviting anyone else along, eh girls?" she shouted, and a fierce roar answered her from her companions. Now that they were still, Inks could see more of the deyha men approaching from the direction they'd come, lagging after the hyenas on mules and horses.

"You continue to impress me, Nabijah." Inks grinned, and her heels helped make up for the obvious difference in height. "I look forward to you continuing to do so."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Graceful Crane Stance, naturally)  
> Inks: (End session?)  
> ST: ((End session. :3))  
> <  
> Inks: thank you for running, despite the PC troubles earlier  
> Inks: so next session is El Galabi Campaign  
> ST: :3  
> Inks: you had fun,I hope? Good RP?  
> ST: Very. ^_^  
> Inks: XP?  
> ST: 4xp +1mxp +4Sxp  
> ST: :3  
> Inks: Niiiice.  
> /blockquote>  
>   
> 


	67. Session 67: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 10

Dust rose high into the air as a fearsome group prowled up the slope of Rankar Peak. This close, the three-mile-high mountain took up the entire northern horizon. The entrance to Scartoll was a mile above the desert floor, and while the slope wasn't intolerable, it was still steep.

Inks might have blamed this fact for the general surliness of the half-hundred deyha she accompanied, and the wariness of the other travellers and caravans making their way up on that, but in all honesty both were probably just natural byproducts of deyha being deyha.

The other natural byproduct of deyha being deyha was the cluster of Rangers she could already see waiting for her further up the track, with... yes, that looked like Piercing Sun himself front and centre.

"He is either gonna be really impressed," predicted Vahti, "or really, really pissed."

"Mmm." Inks agreed. They'd made good time back as a group, once Nabijah had made it overwhelmingly clear that Inks had practical skills despite her obvious lushness. Striding ahead of the group, unmarked by trail dust and grit in gauzy silk, Inks waved to the meeting rangers. "Heya! How goes it?"  
  


>   
> ST: ((... it's just occurred to me, did Inks, uh, actually mention her plans to bring the deyha onboard to Piercing Sun?))  
> Inks: (99% certain she did. Technically as the whole plan matured, I originally started with an idea of 3 forces; Rangers, Despot Guards, Deyha. But then Exorcists so now it's technically 4 'units' worth of specialists)  
> ST: ((Cool cool.))  
> Inks: (of those 4, the Despot guard is the one I can afford to drop)  
> ST: ((Incidentally, Diff 2 Per+Awa.))  
> Inks: (9d, rolled 2sux)  
> 

  
  
"Don't 'how goes it', girl," Piercing Sun bellows, striding down. Inks hears murmuring among the deyha as he approaches, but a quick glance back reassures her they're not planning to do something stu-

... are. Are some of them _eyeing him up?_

... okay then! Piercing Sun; a man that even alpha deyha lust after. Somehow, that... actually kind of makes sense. Regardless, Inks doesn't have time to process that fully before her mentor is right in front of her.

"When you said you'd be bringing in the deyha, girl, I expected you to muster them near El Galabi! Not bring 'em here to Gem! You have any idea what fifty mounted deyha can do to a city in a single day?"

This rouses a whoop of pride and challenge from the troop, who quickly shut up when the old dragonblood and Nabijah give them identical glares. Piercing Sun's switches back to Inks.

"My men'll be watching 'em, you hear me? And mustering 'em to move out will be on your head. My rangers'll be ready for whatever date you set for the march."

Inks just waved her hand like the whole matter was no big deal. Inwardly she was cringing and furiously revising her time tables. "I'll have everything taken care of promptly, Piercing Sun!"

Turning, she looked the pack up and down, then glanced at Nabijah. "I need your gals to keep it together for about twelve, eighteen hours. I have about ten things to do and they're all happening more or less yesterday."  
Nabijah cocks her head. "We're movin' out that soon?" she queries. "You sure, boss?"

"Some of us are." Inks temporized. "Unless you think you can maintain discipline on fifty hardcore Deyha for several weeks.

Nabijah eyes her girls as if considering the possibilities inherent in brutal violence, but eventually shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Alright. Oi, girls!" She blows a shrill whistles that gets everyone's attention. "Find an open space and break a fast camp! Then hit up the local bars and brothels! You got half a day of leave, then I want you saddled up and ready to ride again! Any bitch who gets the guard on her ass; I'll smash her teeth in; that understood?"  
  


>   
> ST: (( Welp, she gets 6 sux, so they hustle hustle and will probably manage to go twelve hours without getting any more drunk and disorderly than is, you know, normal for Scartol.))  
> Inks: (Nice. If Nabijah had failed, non zero chance Inks would have syhthezied a Deyha-wrangling Presence Style on the spot and pulled a Commander Shepard or something)  
> ST: ((lol))  
> Inks: (That may still yet happen)  
> 

  
  
Leaving (not exactly trusting) Nabijah to her command, Inks and Vahti cut through Scartol with a fierce purpose. They had a number of small errands to take care of- checking in with the managers of Inks's various investments, Trati Gion, Sahlak Janissa, and the Iblan family councils.

The latter of which were... questioning the wisdom of her campaign, and the vast account of favors she was beginning to owe. Regardless, they seemed content enough to give her rope to hang herself with, which was better than simply measuring a knife for her back.

Pushing through the grand doors of her townhouse, Inks sought out Pipera, and fortunately found Tatters also sitting at the ground floor dining table. Her three closest present allies now faced her, and she paced before them.

"We prepare the march to El Galabi within the next few days- with intent to establish a beachhead and fortification." Inks delcared. "Before I start laying out the exact plan, I wanted to ask if any of you were planning to follow, and how closely?"

Tatters was almost certain to follow, maybe not under Inks's command, but as an advisor. With Vahti's growing interest in the Maiden of Serenity, Inks wasn't sure she would be committed to a military campaign. Pipera was the other question mark.

"I will be there." Pipera's words aren't a question, a suggestion or even an offer. They're flood-carved river valleys in the shape of letters. The air seems humid for a moment, and Inks smells the tang of salt on the air.

"Uh... duh?" said Vahti, "I mean, of course I'm coming. I didn't suffer under Piercing Sun for ages just to back out now. 'Sides, worst comes to the worst, you need me for your flame-guardian spell."

Tatters just shrugged. "Where you go, I go," she said simply. "I won't leave you to do this alone."

A vast paw dropped onto Inks' shoulder, and Maji's irritated huff at being left out ruffled her hair from behind.

"Ohh you-" Inks rumbled with a laugh and threw her arms around Maji's neck. "I wouldn't dare leave you behind!"

Nodding, she grinned. "Okay- glad to hear it. Now's the time to ask for any last minute equipment or whatnot, because I plan on us getting moving quick."

"I'll be sending messages to Xandia and Etiyadi, for one- to put our established plans into action." Inks ticked off on her fingers.

"Then, I'll lead a preliminary force primarily of the Deyha and some of the best exorcists and rangers we have out to El Galabi. We'll set up a fortress and staging area for the campaign itself. Since I'll be leading it, that force will get there much faster and we'll have time to scout the city."

"This means the main assault force will be coming by less quickly..." Inks made a mental note to ensure that there were multiple lines of communication- Sagacious Wing probably knew the same kinds of messaging tricks as Pipera, right?  
  


>   
> Inks: (That's basically the rough plan I hope to execute this session, btw. Getting that initial force to El Galabi and 'queuing up' the rest to follow)  
> 

  
  
Pipera pursed her lips, calculating. "Speaking of the deyha, how many do we have?" she asked. "We should take stock of our accumulated forces."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Now, I think Inks was also going to hire mercenaries?))  
> Inks: (I might have, but I forgot, or conflated them w/ Deyha)  
> 

  
  
"Fifty mounted, plus horsemen and their auxiliary... men, I guess? I'm still not fully aware of Deyha gender dynamics."

Pipera pursed her lips, calculating. "... alright," she murmured after a while. "Call it a hundred all told. Then we have four hundred Ranger-exorcists, one hundred and fifty of the Despot's Guards, and up to three hundred mercenaries with open contracts drafted. A little over a thousand, all told. The guards and the mercenaries will be slower to move out and travel - I'll stay back to deal with them. What do you intend to do at El Galabi in the space between getting there and waiting for the reinforcements to arrive?

"Like I said, reconissance and building up the facilities we need to supply the campaign. A fortress-camp, water supplies. And then scouting. I have some ideas as well about contacting the local spirit courts too."||

Pipera nodded. "Very well." Rising to her feet, she salutes smartly. "In that case, _Commander_ Iblan. With your permission, I'll inform the Despot and start calling in mercenary contracts immediately. How many do you want to call due?"  
  


>   
> Inks: (The idea here is that Inks can ask for the mercenaries to show up today for the first wave, or wait until the full force moves out?)  
> ST: ((Nah, that's "how many of the 300-strong Mag 5 force do you want to call on - just half of them to get enough for that 900-strong force, which will cost less since it's only a Mag 4 group, or the whole shaboodle?"))  
> Inks: (Oh! Okay lemme think)  
> 

  
  
Inks stood tall and nodded. "Call them all. We either do this, or we don't. There's no point in holding much if anything back."

Pipera nodded, and hesitated before leaving.  
"Good luck," she eventually said as she turned to go.

"You too." Inks grinned, and with Vahti, got to work.  
  


>   
> Inks: (So I want to basically get a solid 'starter force', likely composed mostly of Deyha. What magnitude is the Deyha unit?)  
> ST: ((So, the deyha unit is technically two Mag 3 units making up a Mag 4 unit. One is the 50 hyena-mounted deyha, who are elite troops and super scary, and the other is the horse-mounted men, who are merely "average soldier" level.))  
> Inks: (Alright. So I feel safe in assuming that Inks can bring the 'rowdier' Deyha with her at not much of a loss to efficiency, with the horsemen in the main force.)  
> ST: ((Honestly, it'll be pretty easy to take the whole group. None of them are unpacking since they only just got here, so they're ready to roll out again.))  
> ST: ((Also the deyha will be much, much easier to direct if they have their boyfriendos.))  
> Inks: (True, true)  
> Inks: (But that also means Inks has to carry the entire 'occult' side of the recon herself.)  
> Inks: (Oh well, nothing for it I guess!)  
> ST: ((... I... assumed you were taking the Rangers as well?))  
> Inks: (I can only take mag 4!  
> Inks: (I keep trying to tell you this!)  
> Inks: (TRN is capped at Essence)  
> ST: ((Ahh. Well, you could just travel mundanely~))  
> Inks: (I could! But that would screw up my plans!  
> ST: ((hard choices~))  
> Inks: (But for the sake of saying so, El Galabi is 200 miles away. Inks and whoever she brings can get there in at most 10 days. 5 if the route isn't rough)  
> Inks: (How long would the travel take mundanely?)  
> ST: ((It's 100 miles away. To get there mundanely... give me a moment...))  
> ST: ((Uh, 150, rather. So, standard time one week. Terrain modifiers +1/4 Long Distance, -1/8 Accurate Maps, +1/4 Large Group. So, +3/8 means about ten days, while TRN lets you do it, what, a week?)).))  
> ST: ((Actually, call it two weeks mundanely since I forgot to factor in the Difficult terrain on the second leg.))  
> Inks: (Oh, That's not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Okay. Cool)  
> Inks: (Like, I fully plan on being out there at El Galabi for several weeks waiting before the actual assault, so that works out well enough.)  
> Inks: (Alright!)  
> Inks: (So I'll stick with the staggered deployment, but I won't sweat using TRN. So the Mag 4 Deyha unit, Half the exorcists (mag 4) and Half the Rangers (Mag 4), that leaves Pipera to manage all the mercenaries, the remaining half of the Rangers, Exorcists and Despot's Guard.)  
> Inks: (They'll get moving a few weeks (sooner or later depending on how the camp goes) after Inks's initial force.)  
> ST: ((The Rangers _are_ the exorcists - they're the ones Tatters trained, if you remember. She trained the Rangers in her style and rolled really well so she just trained all 400 of them.))  
> Inks: (Oh! Okay I've been assuming that the exorcists were intentionally a not-Ranger force under Inks's authority! I mean, I can do that later, so I'm not upset)  
> Inks: (Think of it like Inks going "Okay you're all good at This, I'll be good at That, and we can work together!")  
> Inks: (Okay, that works though, Not gonna sweat it.)  
> ST: ((So, taking all 100 deyha and 200 Rangers, and leaving the other 700-odd members of your army to follow up with Pipera?))  
> Inks: (Correct. I can roll int+war if there's any obvious flaw in this plan)  
> ST: ((Nope, that's fine. Though I will ask OOC why you're only taking half the Ranger unit at first.))  
> Inks: (Legacy decision making, as you pointed it out, I can take the whole thing at no penalty, so I may as well right?)  
> ST: ((Yuppers.))  
> ST: ((Okay then, decided? Stunt away! Also probably inform Piercing Sun that you want his Rangers ready to go IN TWELVE HOURS OR LESS, YO.))  
> Inks: (Oh this is gonna be good)  
> 

  
  
Clapping her hands, Inks made her away to another ground floor room with Maji trailing behind her. There she cast in a flurry of messages the declarations of battle order and her intentions.

To Xandia, the message was to begin their operation, and to Etiyadi, move the troops. She did not send Maji off to Piercing Sun however. That, Inks decided, required a personal touch.

Through Scartol, Inks checked on the Deyha camp, and made her way towards the ever-expanding fortress complex of the Rangers. Armored, Inks sauntered up to what looked like an iron-shod wooden shaft in one of the training yards.

It had knuckle imprints.

Drawing Chronicle with a whorl of sunfire, Inks swung the flat of her blade against the metal, and the great blade rang out with a martial clang! "Piering Sun! Elemi Piercing Sun!"

The cantankerous Dragon of the Burning Sands stormed out of his tent, staff in hand and robes flapping madly. "Damned fool sun-girl! I just sat down to dinner. What ass-ended idea has lodged itself in your head now!?"

Inks just swung her daiklave against the post again and grinned. "We march on El Galabi! Today!"

He stared at her. And stared. And stared, for several seconds more.

"Y'know," he said eventually, "when I said I'd muster my Rangers to leave whenever you got it into your head to march, I didn't mean for you to take that as a challenge on how fast I could get the slackers upright, dressed and packed." Thumping his staff on the ground irritably, he sighed. "How long? I hope you don't mean to leave this instant; it'll take even me a good few hours of yelling and beating young fools around the head to make'em fall in."  
  


>   
> ST: ((Inks do you realize what you have just _done_ to every ranger selected for the el galabi mission))  
> ST: ((what _brief and turbulent hell_ you have just subjected them to :P))  
> Inks: (Kek)  
> Inks: (No, no, I got this)  
> 

  
  
"Young fools, you say?" Inks grinned. No matter what she wore, armor plate or thin silk, there was no denying Inks's volutuous bodacity. "Perhaps I can offer them a carrot to your stick."

In the steadily dropping light of the sun, Inks jumped atop the training post with supernatural grace, bringing her fingers to her lips and cutting out a sharp, shrill whistle. The scant handfuls of soldiers milling about the parade grounds turned to face her, with others peeking out from tents and barracks. "Rangers of Gem! Proud and great soldiers of our very own Piercing Sun." She saluted the man below as he rolled his eyes. "The Painted Beauty of Gem calls upon you now to march!"

The mark on her brow flared out, for a second bright enough to blind, but then warm and inviting, wrapping the woman in a halo of luxurious, twilight hues. "Show up for muster and I just might give you a kiss~"  
  


>   
> Inks: (Speed The Wheels + Painted Beauty of Gem Reputation)  
> ST: ((...))  
> ST: ((I am actually going to award you a 3-die stunt for that, you canny bastard.))  
> ST: ((I am aware that this is not actually a roll.))  
> ST: ((But you still get an honorary 3-die in spirit.))  
> Inks: (Speed the Wheels is a roll! Int+Bureaucracy + ESsence autosux!)  
> ST: ((... so it is!))  
> Inks: !ex 23 +4; [5, 4, 10, 9, 2, 5, 7, 2, 2, 9, 10, 3, 4, 2, 5, 7, 3, 8, 5, 2, 2, 9, 4] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
> Inks: (So Inks now divides the time it takes to muster by her Essence +1)  
> 

  
  
Piercing Sun snorted. "Great. Now I'll have to spend _more_ time dragging half of 'em back out of their bunks." He gave her an assessing eye. "If you gave the Despot's tin pots and those swords-for-hire you're bringing the same kind of warning, they won't be ready in anywhere near enough time. Who'll be bringing them, and when?"

"My aide, Pipera." Inks declared. "We're the initial force to establish a fortress and scout the situation. It'll be your rangers and my Deyha, for starters."

He nodded sharply. "Alright. Clear out and get those deyha corralled." He looked her up and down, and gave a truly evil smirk. "And I'd also think about a mount. I doubt that great beast of yours will let you ride it - and Windroarer's _my_ steed."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay. We can cut to the setting off. What will Inks be riding?))  
> Inks: (Technically she doesn't need to ride anything!)  
> ST: (("her bitching heels" is a valid answer.))  
> Inks: (Perfected Boots are explicitly intended to let infantry keep up with mounted troops during long distance travel!)  
> Inks: (Valid answer given!)  
> ST: ((:V))  
> Inks: (You gonna start, or should I?)  
> ST: ((Okay. People are going to be pulling an all-nighter getting ready to go, so if there's anything left you want Inks to do before setting off, call it out now. If not, I can open.))  
> Inks: (Nothing's coming to mind. Sulieman's probably already shoved off, not sure if I need to talk to Rankar. Already informed the Coxati what was up.)  
> ST: ((Cool cool.))  
> 

  
  
They left at dawn.

Four hundred of Gem's best and brightest; clad in traveling clothes with their armour packed into saddlebags and backpacks for the long march west. Fifty hulking deyha on enormous hyenas that growled and snapped at the skittish horses who ventured close. Another threescore men of the Cahzorite deyha; identifiable by the minor hyena-like features they bore but so very distinct from their enormous sisters and cousins in build and stance and stature.

Above them circled a bird of flame, her wingtips fringed with hints of gold. And leading them were two of the Exalted - an old and fierce general, and a beauty to outshine the rising sun.

As the first golden rays flew like spears to glance off the sand and dust of the badlands below, the first wave of the El Galabi Reclamation Force mounted the top of Scartoll and began to descend.

Inks took in a slow, easy breath and grinned. It was easy to mistake motion for progress, but there was a certain sense of power that morning. Keeping up with the combined mounted force, Inks mingled. She absorbed trail wisdom, command advice and more as the group took to the hills outlying Gem. "Feels good to be moving."

Piercing Sun returns a noncommittal grunt, scowling ahead at the Firepeaks on the horizon. He's rubbing his leg, she realizes as she keeps pace alongside Windroarer. The one she healed.

"Are we heading close to where that happened?" Inks wondered.

"No," he said softly. "That was south. But it's aching." His frown deepened. "This'll be a bad one, Inks. I can feel it in my gut. When you're as old as me, you'll know it too. The way your scars ache before a hard campaign."

"..." Inks frowned, arms folded and drumming her fingers against her side. "I don't doubt your hunch, but I can't help but feel like that's arbitrarily pessimistic."

She split off a mental line to consider while speaking. "I mean, hope for the best, prepare for the worst. That's why I wanted to start with scouting, not just rush the gates and walls the moment we get there."

"Oh, I know all that," he grumbled. "But you mark me, girl. With all the hope and planning in the world... sometimes you just know." He rubbed his leg again. "The last time I felt like this going into a fight, it was the one that lost me my leg. Be wary, Iblan Inks. Be watchful, and trust nothing."  
  


>   
> ST: ((notably I think that might actually be the first time he's ever used her name))  
> Inks: (Dang)  
> 

  
  
Giving the old dragonblooded a solmen nod, Inks agreed. Then she paused, with an impish grin swiping across her lips. "Last time though you didn't have someone like me at your back. That's not an excuse to do something foolish and get yourself killed, of course!"||

"Hn." He smirked. "I guess that'll depend on you giving me no reason, won't it?"

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay, anyone else Inks wants to talk to in specific?))  
> Inks: (Hmm. Nobody coming to mind!)  
> ST: ((Cool. Gimme a mo to put food on, then I'll come in with the sweeping panoramic landscape shots that Peter Jackson loves.))  
> Inks: (cool)  
> ST: ((You doing good so far?))  
> Inks: (yep! I had an awful night sleep, but I'm not letting it bother me. I got a great +3 after all)  
> ST: ((^_^))  
> Inks: (!)  
> 

  
  
The first leg of the trip was easy; the sandy flats around Rankar Peak fading into dusty badlands as the troops march in loose formation. Thanks to Inks' peerless organisational skills and deep pockets, food was in fine supply - and Maji's larger catches got snapped up quickly by the hungry soldiers.

Thankfully, there was no need to go through any perilous passes like the Giant's Fingers when they reached the edge of the Firepeaks after a week's travel. Instead, the land slowly rose into foothills, then the beginnings of the highlands, and finally dizzyingly high clifftops. There were several routes up, but the sheer numbers Inks was traveling with rendered most of them non-viable, so it was via a more circuitous route than her last visit to the city of the Dead that she began to reach the altitudes of the once-beautiful solar settlement.  
  


>   
> ST: ((Okay. Roll me Perception+Awareness as an opposed roll against an opponent's 14 dice. Threshold successes, if you pass, matter.))  
> ST: !ex 14 #sneakysneakyhideydetaily; [7, 8, 3, 9, 1, 4, 9, 9, 6, 8, 9, 8, 8, 4] was rolled for 9 successes.  
> Inks: (... holy shit)  
> Inks: (That reminds me I wanted to use the travel time to train Charms.)  
> Inks: (Anyway, stunting!)  
> 

  
  
As they neared the higher climes and the city of the dead, Inks put her head on a swivel. Her eyes, trained by Maji's accute cat-like vision, took in the drip of water from melting snow on high peaks. Then the mild sway of low mountain greenery and stubborn forests.

Piercing Sun had his troops in good order as well, with disciplined sentries and watch rotations, combined with Deyha scouts sniffing the wind...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Stunted, bonuses?)  
> ST: ((+3 assistant, +2 stunt))  
> Inks: !ex 13 +3; [9, 8, 6, 8, 1, 8, 5, 5, 2, 4, 9, 9, 5] was rolled for 9 successes after modifiers.  
> ST: ((... ho hum. Well, as the one in stealth, defender wins that one. So...))  
> Inks: (Ohboy)  
> 

  
  
It came without warning, ten miles out from the city by Inks' best guess. One moment her force was marching, joking, grumbling and adjusting to the cooler temperatures at this altitude. Music drifted from somewhere near the back of the column, and Piercing Sun was ferociosuly eyeballing a relatively innocent fruit tree for signs of Wyld contamination.

The next moment, a piercing scream split the air from the mountainside above them. There was nothing human in the sound. Not only was it a howling thing of madness and outrage, it was _loud_ \- too loud for anything mortal to have made. And, in the distance ahead of them, Inks heard another. And another, quieter and more distant. And another, fainter still.

It sounded uncomfortably like the trail of screams was in the direction they were going.

Thinking furiously, Inks scanned her army as they cast about for the source. Screaming... Either some fell dead beast, or the Shrieker Cultists? She couldn't be sure...  
  


>   
> Inks: (Per/Int+Occult?)  
> ST: ((It's above her on the mountainside and she can track the source. She can just go see what it is if she wants.))  
> ST: ((Like, it's not up a cliff, just a steep slope.))  
> Inks: (Gotcha)  
> ST: ((Are you going to, or do you want that Diff?))  
> Inks: (Moving ahead!)  
> 

  
  
"Maji, with me." Inks declared. Without a word, a handful of Rangers and Deyha split off from the group to follow. She made her way up the slope, towards the sound. Today she would trust her armor, and Chronicle waited in the space between spaces for her call...

The screaming hadn't stopped. If anything, it only got louder as she tracked it to...

... a cave. A dark cave, deep enough that the rays of the sun only intruded a few metres past the entrance overhang, from which the furious blast of sound echoed in wails and screams of hatred.  
Was this... a ghost? An undead _sentry?_ Had... had El Galabi _known she was coming?_

"Tatters." Inks whispered.

"Banshee," Tatters whispered in horror. "Wailing Ones, they're called. Ghosts who were killed by thieves before they could scream; soldiers who had their throats slit to stop them shouting a warning. Necromancers use them as sentries." She shook her head. "But there shouldn't be one _here_. I would have known! There were none outside the city!"

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." Inks muttered. "Alright."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Int+war to reason out the banshee's purpose and fuction; my guess is that it's already detected us and alerted El Galabi to our presence, killing it just tells the enemy where we are.)  
> ST: ((Diff 1.))  
> Inks: !ex 9; [5, 8, 9, 5, 8, 4, 10, 4, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> ST: ((Yeah, it's an alarm sentry to warn El Galabi of incoming. Killing it _might_ tip them off as to where the army is - at the bare minimum they have a direction. Regardless, they're good and warned now. Whoever "they" is, considering that at last check the place had nothing but abnormally canny yidak and a monster in the temple.))  
> 

  
  
Scowling, Inks raised her hand to the sky and called upon sorcerous power. A wire tracery mandala appeared before her palm, dripping fiery Essence. High above, Vahti felt her patron-lover invoke the elemental aspect of their bond.  
  


>   
> ST: ((... are you literally just going to shoot the cave full of magical fire.))  
> ST: ((you are aren't you))  
> Inks: (Yes.)  
> ST: (( _oh my god inks_ ))  
> 

  
  
Drawing the ritual formula upon the air itself, Inks pointed her palm at the cave with an apologetic sigh. "Well, we're done here."  
  


>   
> Inks: (Casting Purifying Flames)  
> 

  
  
There's a last howl from within as the flames fill the cave, and then it abruptly cuts off. In the distance, the howls falter at the sudden absence, and begin to fade.

No doubt she'll have to repeat this as they go, or deal with the screaming chain going off again. Urgh.

When she gets back to the main group, Piercing Sun is looking grim.

"Complications already," he grunts, and thumps his leg. "Told you, sun-girl. This will be a bastard of a siege."

* * *

  
  


>   
> ST: ((Aaaand I think end the session there.))  
> Inks: (Sounds good!)  
> ST: ((That means next session is YOU'RE THERE, TIME TO START THE FIGHT.))  
> ST: ((End session))  
> Inks: (Heh)  
> ST: (4+1xp + 2 Sxp + 1 mxp)  
> Inks: (was fun, thanks!)  
> ST: (^_^)  
> 

  
  



	68. Session 68: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 11

  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 68))  
>  ST: ((So, first of all. Roll me Perception+Awareness at opposed Difficulty for spotting the rest of the sentries before they cause a racket. Since Inks is ludicrously overpowered compared to puny ghosts, we can assume that if she spots them first, she deals with them easily enough. +2 circumstance bonus for knowing what she's looking for this time.))  
>  ST: !ex 14  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((Her opponents roll 7.))  
>  Inks: !ex 11 +4  
>  Inks: (ooff)  
>  Inks: (Rolled 8 sux +4 auto)  
>  ST: ((nice))

  
  
Marching towards a city of the Dead that had lain undisturbed for longer than you'd been alive was one thing. An already-kind-of-intimidating thing, not that Inks was the type to balk or quail in the face of intimidation.

Discovering partway that the ghosts were either a lot less confined by the salt-walls than expected or had friends on the outside was rather more concerning. Perhaps even venturing into the territory of "unsettling". Or "grim".

As such, all eyes were peeled for the rest of the march, searching for the other sentries they'd heard as they moved closer to the city. Walking ahead of the main group, Inks' keen eyes picked out the first under an overhang three miles closer - and summarily dealt with it - while the second was only three or four miles from the edge of the city itself; concealed within the shade of a cluster of dead trees.

"Gotta say, boss," VahtI said as she looked at the merrily burning copse. "I do not like how they have alarm bells up outside. They weren't here the last time you came, right?"

"No, none." Ink agreed with an absent hum. "And Tatters had already scouted this place some seasons ago..."

She highly doubted that their little excursion into the Underworld had lit a fire under the local lands of the dead, but Dead Cahzor _hand_ made a pretty overt offer to her. The shackled dead of El GalabI in exchange. Plus Tatter's master- whatever that was.

Or the apparent 'master' of the temple-shadowland had wised up somehow... "Hmm..."

"I think I know how they're getting out, at least," murmured Tatters, appearing with _no warning whatsoever_ in a patch of shadow as they around a hill and got their first good look at the city walls. Inks was starting to suspect she enjoyed seeing people startle. Certainly VahtI gave an undignified squawk and reverted to her bird form for a moment of frantic flapping.

"I can... you can sense where the sun is, yes?" Tatters explained. "I can do the same with... well, death. Entrances to the Underworld. I couldn't feel it from afar, because the city is so big, but... there are other shadowlands up ahead. Small ones; tiny boreholes around a chasm. But that's probably how they're getting past the walls - they're going under, rather than over."

Left unspoken was the fact that the new shadowlands hadn't been here when she'd scoped the place out some seasons back.

"Hmm..." Inks favored VahtI and Tatters both with a small but sincere grin. "That might be a blessing in disguise. Do you think you can help me draw a map of these smaller shadowlands?"

Tatters shrugs. "I don't have a compass and distance - just a general direction and a vague sense of 'close' or 'far'. But once we're encamped and I can get some scouting done, yes. You think we can close them all?"

"At the very least I can make any ghost who wants to try regret it." Inks allowed. "But I was as much thinking of a gambit- leaving one we want open so the enemy thinks they have an advantage over us. It's just a thought."

Tatters nods, seeming enthused at the idea, and the last uphill stretch begins.

El GalabI sits high in the fringe of the Firepeaks; the edge of the mountain range where few still-active volcanoes remain, but whose mountains have not the staggering altitudes of their westward siblings. It is not at the very summit of its plateau; instead situated on a gentle gradient that leaves one edge of the city higher than the other.

All told, the walls of El GalabI are about half a mile from edge to edge. The plateau around it was once a rich and fertile place, and Inks can still see the remains of farms and outbuildings that once brought life from this mountaintop paradise. Alas, they are but foundations and ruins. The mountain grass grows thick around the edges, but sparser and paler near the city walls - while the volcanic soil is still fertile, the land is poisoned by  
the death-tainted demesne at its centre. Animals avoid it; spooked by the screams and wails from within or warded off by the necrotic essence that seeps out even through the salt-based walls.

The northern side of the plateau is the higher one, and terminates in an abrupt plunge hundreds of metres down into a narrow valley - a remnant of a river long dried up or diverted. Westwards, the plateau dips away again into broken, chasm-riddled land too treacherous to settle on before rising once more towards the volcanoes. To the south, the rolling fields and swaying grass spreads out and down until it meets the edge of another dizzying drop; a sheer mountain face across the valley from it. And eastward, of course, is the slope they have climbed.  


>   
>  ST: ((It was the city proper that was a mile across - they burnt the outskirts and built the wall around the central district, trapping the Dead inside.))  
>  Inks: (gotcha)  
>  ST: ((Inks _can_ deduce, at least, that the soil has had thirty years to sit fallow. So it's probably good for farming if the death-taint can be painlessly removed.))  
>  Inks: (Small favors!)  
>  Inks: (Having ganked the sentries, I feel reasonably safe in assuming the dead don't know we're coming?)  
>  ST: ((... I mean.))  
>  ST: ((You didn't gank the _first_ sentry, so they know there's something in the area.))  
>  ST: ((But they probably don't know you're headed towards them rather than passing by yet.))  
>  Inks: (Okay, that helps answer the question!)

  
  
"We make for the eastern approach and fortify." Inks declared. She spun on her heels, taking in her assembled forth of Rangers and Deyha. Piercing Sun stared down at her from atop Windroarer. "If they're smart enough to have sentries, then they're smart enough to be watching the walls and outlands."

"So the plan hasn't changed dramatically- we dig in, scout and assess." Inks pointed at the likeliest spot for their fortification. "So let's get to work!"||  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so where are you putting your fort, exactly, and how are you setting it up?))  
>  Inks: (Eastern slopes, as you described them; are about the same as the northern slopes if I read the description right. I don't know how close it'll end up being to the walls... Hmm. Tough call actually.)  
>  Inks: (Because the two 'accessible' directions (North/east) are both on Low Ground compared to El Galabi's high ground, right?)  
>  Inks: (Ah,correction, south/east. I meant south east)  
>  ST: ((So, the plateau goes down from north to south - the northern slopes are above El GalabI from an altitude perspective, though the slope is pretty gentle. Westward it drops off into a hard-to-traverse nightmare, eastward falls a bit and has the slopes up to the plateau from below, which you're coming up.))  
>  ST: ((So, south is below the city, east and west are on the same gradient until you get to the edges of the plateau, north is higher.))  
>  Inks: (I'm under the impression that to get to the northern slopes, you have to go through the city, unless you want to climb a near sheer valley? OR wait, no. It's a river-cut valley right? Not a hard drop-off)  
>  ST: ((... I mean, you could go _around_ the city. The city is on a plateau, it doesn't take up the _whole_ plateau. That's why they could export so much food - they basically had a town with acres of _super fertile_ farmland around it.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, that hadn't been clear!)  
>  ST: ((North and south have very, very steep drops into valleys. East is the traversable approach. West... eh, it's broken ground, so it's pretty much impassable for a large group unless they have a bullshit Solar leading them or similar, and you can't really build on it.))  
>  Inks: (Linked a top-down map I sketched)  
>  Inks: (not to scale)  
>  Inks: (I'll pretty the map up later on, I think, but it's helping me get the point across...)  
>  Inks: (Okay. So ideally Inks wants the high ground. That means the northern end of the plateau. I either go 'around' the city as you say, or I do something clever... On the balance while I like my clever idea (build a bridge), it feels like inviting trouble.)  
>  Inks: (Okay! So i'll try to include the maps when I post this session for reals; to finally decide: Inks will want to make her fortress on the northern side of the plateau-slope overlooking El Galabi.)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. How will you be setting it up?))  
>  ST: ((... plz include better maps than my shitty MS Paint art.))  
>  Inks: (I will be redrawing it yes)  
>  ST: ((Our readers thank you.))  
>  Inks: (How, uh? Sorcery. Do you want more specific details?)  
>  Inks: (Writing, I guess...)  
>  ST: ((Well, like, are you building a towering fortress akin to the walls of El GalabI itself, or just, y'know, a pretty simple base camp?))  
>  Inks: (Oh, gotcha. Okay. I'll write that out. Sorry.)  
>  ST: ((How impregnable are you aiming for, here? Bearing in mind that it's sitting on farmland that you're probably going to want to use later on.))  
>  Inks: (I can always tear it down later, and rebuild the farmland if need be.)  
>  ST: ((... does RtEB actually let you _de_ construct stuff?))  
>  Inks: (No, but Inks can solve that problem with manpower or other charms/sorcery later.)  
>  ST: ((Fair.))  
>  ST: ((Continue then.))  
>  Inks: (You should be happy I'm thinking of this stuff! Most players get all antsy when they deal with lasting consequences!)

  
  
Re-evaluating, Inks nodded to herself, already planning and re-planning her fortification. Whistling, she quickly arranged her troops after a brief consultation with Piercing Sun about advantageous fortress designs. Doing the design in her head while moving, Inks envisioned a layered encampment of high strong walls with auspicious angles, all the better to funnel hordes into overlapping fields of bow and firewand range.

The approach to the northern slopes was a tense affair, with Inks and her forces keeping an eye on the city walls with every step...  


>   
>  Inks: (So OMTT to 'design' the fortress, this is just us Getting there. The goal is to make something big enough that my entire mag 7 force can hunker down inside safely. After the physical structure is built, Inks will use Incantation of Spiritual Discretion to further ward it against hostile spirits.)

  
  
Thankfully, the walls seemed intact. Whatever else had been happening here, whatever force had created shadowlands around the city and let the Dead slip out, it hadn't been enough to harm the physical ring-wall that curved inwards to deny efforts to climb it from within. The walls remained unmanned - expected, in the late afternoon light - and only an eerie silence lay over the city; watchful and hostile.

"They know we're here," murmured Piercing Sun, keeping his voice low under the tramp of feet. "I can feel something watching us, even if it ain't doing it with eyes. Double up on the defenses, girl. And be sure you finish before sundown."

"I love time pressure." Inks did not grin, but got to work nonetheless. With so many people and the local shadowland depressing the wildlife, clearing the layout for their base camp took almost no time.

The formula in her head was part military treatise, part sorcerous calculation and no small amount of battle-prayer to various celestial gods; that overlapping truth of spiritual insights having real-world effects and vice-versa.

Driving spikes of her Essence into the ground at set intervals, Inks called upon her connections to House Bhasalus and her connection as an architect. It would take multiple castings, but she had accounted for that already...

Warm ochre stone flowed up at her call, twisting into steadily thickening columns and seamless walls that disdained the need for mortar or carving tools. Thick as a man was tall, three stories high with stairway turrets and chin high cover...

Arrow and firewand slits dotted the length of the structure. She cast again and again, raising a wall, then another. Then barracks. Some strucures she sank into the earth, proof against burrowing horrors or ingenious sappers.

With the walls in place, Inks now retrieved from their supplies pure salt and ritual mirrors- the vital components of ritual warding. Speaking aloud the mantra of Heaven-Meets-Earth in reverse, she carefully delinated the outer borders of her freshly summoned fortress.

With the twelfth and final recitation, Inks channeled her essence in one brilliant surge of declarative power, and made her new camp secure!||

* * *

  


>   
>  Inks: (So as a heads up, Incantation of Spiritual Discretion doesn't say how big an area it can cover)  
>  ST: ((It does not, no. Hmm. Does the RAW canon one say anything about it? I'm guessing no.))  
>  Inks: (neither does the RAW spell)  
>  Inks: (Ah! Nope, I was wrong. 'An area with a radius equal in yards to caster's occult+Essence')  
>  Inks: (So in Inks's case, radius of 8 yards)  
>  ST: ((On the other hand, the alarm can cover miles.))  
>  Inks: (I think the BotEC version was deliberately buffed, since trying to math out warding areas is kinda obnoxious; your ruling of course!)  
>  ST: ((Yeah. Okay, I'm gonna say it works on Private Plaza rules - there's no set limit, just a fuzzy edge where the time spent setting the thing up becomes longer than it actually lasts.))  
>  Inks: (Worksfor me; so I can over the entire fortress in a single casting?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, though it'll take her a while - like Private Plaza, she has to go through every area she wants to cast it on. Roll... hmm... Dex+Occult to get it done before sunset, at Diff 4. A smaller fortress would have been lower, heh.))  
>  Inks: (since this is Sorcery, I don't get to Excellency right?)  
>  Inks: (stunt bonus if any?)  
>  ST: ((Nope.))  
>  ST: ((Let's call it 3 dice for _ambition_.))  
>  Inks: (nice, that's 9d, I'll spend aWP as well)  
>  Inks: (Whoof! Rolled 9d, got 4sux+1  
>  ST: ((Niiiice.))  
>  ST: ((Which effects are you using? All of them?))  
>  Inks: (Yeah, I'm using all of them)  
>  ST: ((What alarm has she chosen? I assume it's one of the "alert everyone" kinds.))  
>  Inks: (Inks will always be notified telepathically... and I'll say 'Large Bell')  
>  ST: ((Awesome.))

  
  
It was a close-run thing. And maybe she'd been a _tad_ ambitious with the size of the fortress, because it the sun was already touching the line of the mountains and casting the plateau into shadow as she finished her walkthrough of the new structure and sealed the wards around it into watchful activity.

No immaterial spirits would be able to cross the boundary without a lot of power behind them, and those that had the metaphysical muscle to do it anyway would be clearly visible to all. Should they try to possess anyone, her soldiers would be protected; the hostile spirit violently flung out of their body. And most importantly of all, if any ghosts crossed the boundary of her circle - whether intangible or clad in flesh - they wouldn't do so quietly.

Piercing Sun joined her on the ramparts, staring out and across at the other great structure on the plateau; raised with the same spell in decades past.  
"Well then," he said softly. "Now what?"

"I have a few ideas." Inks let out a truly cavernous yawn. "Scouting- finding all those 'new' shadowlands Tatters mentioned. Closing them up. Waiting for the the rest of our forces to arrive."  
She hummed. "Anything I'm neglecting?"

"Mmm..." he hummed evaluatively, sharp eyes staring out at the city as the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the plateau was drenched in shadow. He was silent for a moment - long enough that Inks took it as just an evaluative hum. Then...

"That, for a start," he said, nodding off to the west.  


>   
>  ST: ((lol, piercing sun rolls Per+Awa and somehow gets _sixteen successes_ , the jammy fuck, what the hell.))  
>  Inks: (hahaha)

  
  
It took Inks a moment to spot what the old sand dragon had seen. It was subtle - almost imperceptible in the distance. But there was movement around the broken ground on the western side of the plateau. Tiny shapes were crawling up from the chasms; ants swarming around the edge of the grassland. Black shapes against the dark and looming shadows of the mountains behind them.

Inks whistled. "Oh well that isn't good." She put her helmet on and waited for the crystal lenses inside the visor to warm and align with the movements of her eyes.  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+aware via ashigaru helmet, +2 dice and negates all darkness penalties)  
>  ST: ((Okay, you're still at Diff 10 from distance, but roll.))  
>  Inks: (Diff 10? Wow.)  
>  Inks: (9d+4 auto)  
>  Inks: (6 sux total, no joy)  
>  ST: ((You're trying to make out details of something that's literally several miles away, which Sun only spotted because he got the kind of successes that usually need dedicated Awareness Charms to reach. :P))  
>  Inks: (hahah)

  
  
The visor cleared up the darkness, but the distance was still too great to make out details of the moving shapes. There were dozens of them, Inks could tell that much - and it looked like they were coming up from underground, or maybe down in the chasms. Perhaps climbing the valley walls? They were too far to tell for sure - just squirming dots against the landscape.

"Hmm... Well they're miles away." Inks hummed. She called down to Nabijah with brief instructions to have some of her girls ready for trouble, but Inks herself was confident in the warding schema for the moment.  


>   
>  ST: ((You, uh.))  
>  ST: ((You know the wards don't actually keep the Dead _out_ , right?))  
>  ST: ((All it does to material ghosts is warn you they're there.))  
>  Inks: (Blockade the Immaterial?)  
>  ST: ((Yes. All it does to ghosts who have materialized, or are wearing corpses, is warn you that they're there.))  
>  ST: ((It's not Blockade the Material.))  
>  Inks: (True enough! Okay.)

  
  
"Miles away." Inks noted again, thinking.

"Get everyone ready." Revising her previous orders- surprisingly calm despite the obvious impending threat. "Vahti- start making the grounds. Get everybody moving."

The flame duck offered a somewhat sloppy salute and was off, rushing deeper into the fortress to spread the word. Nabijah's Deyha were mustered, equipped with enchanted steel that glinted faintly gold in the starlight. Inks trusted Piercing Sun to manage his rangers as he liked, but the old man was watching the horizon witha hawk's eye.  


>   
>  Inks: (There, how's that?)  
>  ST: ((Excellent, thank you. Will Inks stay in place, or leave the ramparts?))  
>  Inks: (Stay in place- I can't Brilliant Raptor them without being able to see them, aye?)  
>  ST: ((Heh. Nice.))

  
  
Piercing Sun didn't appear to move, but after a moment or two Inks heard his daughter begin yelling orders from down below, whipping the Rangers into shape. Maybe a wind-whisper like Pipera, or something similar. Regardless, they stood together and watched as the milling dots clustered around the western edge of the plateau. She remembered his lessons. This might be her first real test as a battle sorceress.

"If they come at us, it'll either be a group, or a spread line," he prompted. Always the tests with him; never too tense to throw her another lesson and expect her to excel. "Your responses?"

"If they stay bunched up- I can cast Flight of the Brilliant Raptor with a bit of a lead on them. It would hit the maximum concentration with the primary blast and secondary detonation." Inks noted. "If they spread out in a line... I don't know a good spell for that."

She pointed out the angled walls she had designed, noting how they would funnel the enemy no matter what approach they took. "I would trust instead the archers to take advantage of those overlapping fields of fire, and prepare for close combat."  


>   
>  ST: ((Int+Survival, Diff 2))  
>  Inks: (5sux,no excellency)  
>  ST: ((It occurs to Inks that while Brilliant Raptor would definitely do a great job of wiping out the entire party, it would also - not to put too fine a point on it - be firing a magical napalm grenade that can burn stone at a field of mountain grass after a dry, mostly sunny day when all the grass near the middle of the plateau is dying or dead, and thus very well might turn the entire plateau into a scene from the Vietnam War.))  
>  Inks: (Ash is good fertilizer)  
>  ST: ((:P))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, but that's the kind of thing you can only do once if you _do_ decide to use it.))  
>  ST: ((Also not everyone in your fort has magical smoke-resistant breathing helmets.))  
>  Inks: (Ah! So are you saying Inks is recognizing this as an Advantage, albiet a one-time use, or are you warning me of a negative consequence? I took the original statement as 'Don't do this because unforseen consequences')  
>  ST: ((It's both. It's a risk because of the smoke. But at the same time, fire _is_ cleansing.))  
>  Inks: (I can treat any smoke-releated maladies, probably.)  
>  ST: ((And being able to set _the entire battlefield_ on fire is potentially a way to change the game if things spill out to the plateau proper.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, good points... And thsI is probably... Got it.)

  
  
Inks paused. "Of course- that's the simple idea." She declared. "I can burn the whole plateau down if I wanted- which might be a great one-time tactical stroke... but right now I don't think wasting it is worthwhile. Sometimes a sorcerer shouldn't cast a spell."

"And I still have time to try if I have to." Inks noted with a small grin.

He grinned back. It was a fearsome thing.

"Now you're thinking like a war-caster," he grunted approvingly. "And it looks like you'll get the chance to prove it. They're moving this way." He nodded at the approaching dots, which were beginning to advance forward across the plain towards them; breaking up as they went in the recognisable pattern of an untrained horde with no discipline or formation.  


>   
>  ST: ((Piercing Sun approves of any plan that contains the words "set the entire battlefield on fire" as a valid option.))  
>  ST: ((His approval should probably fill you with shame.))  
>  Inks: (Pff. Does he approve of Inks not casting, or casting?)  
>  ST: ((He approves of her knowing when a spell is a good idea, and when it's better to hold it in reserve for the best tactical effect. And he's made sure she can actually swing that bloody great thing she calls a sword, so he's fine with her not casting this fight because she can contribute in other ways.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)

  
  
"Nabijah!" Inks called down from the ramparts. "How about your Dehya and I get a bit of a warmup in? Horde of beasties coming in all hot and bothered for our bodacity. Let's oblige them."||

"Finally, some action!" her deyha subordinate yelled from below. "Saddle up, girls! We've got killing to do!"  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, Nabijah wants to ride out and meet them on the plain. What's Inks going to do?))  
>  Inks: (Join them, of course. I have a backup planas well- I can cast Purifying Flame as a PBAoE if things get too gnarly. Plus Solar Anima. I fully expect to drop like a rock after this scene though)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So, everyone's Fatigued due to the long march. We've got two Battle Lines here - hungry ghosts on the one hand and deyha on the other. The Rangers are going to be staying back to hold the fortress and sneer at the reckless hyena-women who are rushing out of a defensive position to meet the enemy in a fair fight.))  
>  Inks: (Alright! Assuming Nabijah isn't being overly clever, she's just got her deyha in a big 50-woman unit?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, pretty much.))  
>  Inks: (Alright, so ostensibly Inks is part of that unit too. So just the single battle line (shared) by the two forces facing each other.)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: (Cool. As a heads up, Inks's boots in warmode reduce morale diff by 1 and she can roll Diff [magnitude?] to raise drill by 3.)  
>  Inks: (Roll App+War, for the record)  
>  ST: ((Okay. Hmm. Well, the attacking mob is Drill 0, Might 1, Morale 2. It's a Mag 2 unit.))  
>  ST: ((Your deyha are, uh... Mag 3, Drill 1, Might 1, Morale 4.))  
>  ST: ((It says a lot about deyha that they are barely any more disciplined than a literal mob of insane hungry ghosts.))  
>  Inks: (Drill technically only matters for things like fatigue or changing formation, which I haven't fleshd out yet.)  
>  Inks: (Let's fix that, then, stunting!)

  
  
Striding out in her respendent armor, Inks's panpoly seemed to catch the star and moonlight, glowing with polished hues of Jade and other arcane alloys. Her bounding strides ate up the terrain just as well as the Deyha's fierce lope, and Inks slowly overtook the crowd.

Her footfalls became a crystal drum, a deep throaty chime that seemed to shake the soils in response. "Deyha! Proud warrior-queens of Cahzor!" Inks raised her hand and called Chronicle to her grip.  
"Today you are no mere rabble. Today you are more than just mercenaries." With a stiff-armed grip, she pointed her massive weapon at the approaching hoard, even as she jogged to stay ahead of the Deyha riders. "Today you are extensions of my will and on the first step to becoming legends in your own time! Nabijah Bronze-Breaker!"

"Let's show the Dragon of the Burning Sands that you can be _more!_ "  


>   
>  Inks: (App+War to buff the Deyha's drill)  
>  ST: ((Roll it. Diff 3.))  
>  Inks: (stunt?)  
>  Inks: (Rolled no stunt, 5 sux)

  
  
A roar erupted from a hundred throats; deyha and men alike, and Inks set the pace of a gallop as they met the line of shrieking yidak with a crash. The yidak were loosely grouped; patchy and unordered, while the deyha were roused by Inks' words to keep in close mounted formation. Hyena and deyha ripped into the lines of the Dead, even as moving corpses scrambled up blunt snouts and threw themselves, shrieking, at unprotected eyes and  
throats.  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, close combat roll! Three units here; all Mag 2. The deyha are rolling an average of Dex 4 + Melee 4 + Bone-Breaking Hyena Style 2 = 10 dice for both attack and defense. They are not capped by their Ride due to their empathic bond with their mounts. The yidak are rolling Dex 2 + Brawl 3 + Shrieking Yidak 3 = 8 for attack, and Dex 2 + Brawl 3 = 5 for defense. The hyena-boys are rolling 5 for attack and 6 for defense on both counts - they _are_ limited by their Ride.))  
>  ST: ((It turns out deyha are in fact _pretty fucking scary_ , especially when fifty of them descend on your in a howling frenzy and try to rip you apart.))  
>  Inks: (I thought the hyena boys were back in Gem.)  
>  Inks: (Oy wait, no, I brought them too)  
>  Inks: (I forgot)  
>  Inks: (Okay)  
>  ST: ((Indeedy. And then you did a very good job of inspiring them just now to stabbity people.))  
>  Inks: (Heh! Okay. So 10d for deyha attack)  
>  Inks: (...two successes)  
>  Inks: (are we rolling defenses, or using 10d to calculate their DV?)  
>  ST: ((DV, yes.))  
>  Inks: (Okay, rolling ghosts next, 8d against DV 5)  
>  Inks: (1 success)  
>  Inks: (Hyena boys)  
>  ST: ((sad harmonica noises))  
>  Inks: (3 successes)  
>  Inks: (So nobody hit anything)  
>  ST: ((Just roll Inks' attack pool for me.))  
>  Inks: (can I excellency?)  
>  ST: ((Sure, though against DV 3 I'm not sure why you'd need to.))  
>  Inks: (Inks's unenhanced pool is like 9d, so... yeah, +6 excellency dice)  
>  Inks: (5 sux)  
>  ST: ((Given Chronicle's base damage and the fact these are extras I'm not even going to bother asking for a damage roll.))  
>  Inks: (Heh, it is however a horde, not a single being)

  
  
The two groups met, and clashed. For a moment, everything was shrieking and chaos and movement. Inks ducked a tackle, ignored a set of claws scraping futilely off her armour and drew Chronicle out of nowhere to bisect three hungry ghosts in a blow that sent pieces of them flying backward...

... and then it was over. Their mutual charges and the loose formation of the yidak had taken both groups straight through one another; the hungry ghosts now between them and the fort. Glancing over her deyha, Inks reassured herself that there were no missing holes in the ranks and no more dead bodies than had been on the field to start with. On the other hand, the mob hadn't been thinned out much either. It had just been too short an  
engagement to do any real damage.

Spinning neatly on one toe, Inks bounded after the charging ghosts with a wild shout. "Round about ladies! We've got their unprotected backs now!"

Bolstered by Inks's enchanted discipline, the group wheeled around and charged. Hyena paws and charger hooves tore up clods of soil in great furrows, and the mass of Deyha warriors slammed into the ghostly horde!  


>   
>  Inks: (so another 10d deyha attack, -2 DV due to 'attack from behind?)

  
  
The horde were scattering, some want to continue on to the fort, others turning back to the warm flesh they'd passed, others not sure where the enemy had gone - a few even attacking each other!  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll it. They take a -2 to their attack as well from confusion.))  
>  Inks: (6 sux)  
>  Inks: (Ghosts roll 3 sux on their attack back)  
>  Inks: (Hyena boys rolled 2 sux)  
>  Inks: (and Inks rolled 4 with no excellency)  
>  ST: ((Awright! Deyha are Strength 4, Melee 4, Style 3, threshold 3. The yidak have 0 lethal soak. So, damage roll of 14, please.))  
>  Inks: (No weapon damage?)  
>  Inks: (4 damage sux)  
>  ST: ((These are extras, so... yeah, that knocks a full Mag off them and routs the rest.))

  
  
It was a slaughter. Caught unprepared and disorganized, _this_ time her deyha swept through the mass of hungry ghosts with whooping cries; their blades separating heads from spines and limbs from torsos. What few yidak didn't go down immediately scattered and ran with shrieks, and the hyena-women peeled off in tight groups to get full entertainment out of hunting them down and wiping them out to the last.  


>   
>  ST: ((Successful fight! Well done!))  
>  Inks: (Awesome)  
>  ST: ((Inks might, however, want to question what just happened and what she just slaughtered so easily.))

  
  
Casting about, Inks hummed. "This was way too easy." There were a number of Yidaks swarming about, fleeing from the ravaging horde of Deyha. Stalking forward, she dropped Chronicle tip first into one's waist and spine, severing it neatly from the hips down while it tried to crawl away on a maimed arm. "What do we have...?"||  


>   
>  Inks: (Per+Occult 9d)  
>  Inks: (Stunt?)  
>  ST: ((Per+Investigation, actually. 2-die stunt, Diff 2.))  
>  Inks: (6 sux)  
>  ST: ((No charm use?))  
>  Inks: (Bit low on motes I figure, Threshold 4 anyway?)  
>  Inks: (I mean, nothing else under Investigation applies)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough.))

  
  
Her blood chilled. This yidak...

... this was not an El GalabI yidak.

It still had some remnants of flesh, though its teeth and nails had fallen out and it was starting to liquify. A month or so since death - perhaps as many as two or three in this dry climate. The clothes had rotted away, but from the build it was a labourer, not an academic scholar-priest. And... oh, she'd been a fool. A _fool_. Shadowlands around the city. The yidak couldn't have opened them - a key inside a box couldn't open the lock  
from the outside. Which meant someone from outside had opened them.

And there was only one way Inks knew of to create a shadowland.

These weren't the yidak of the city. These were the yidak of whoever had been murdered to let them out - native hillfolk who had dwelt in this stateless region, most likely; thrown at her fort as an expendable probe to see what she could field.

And whoever had done it was still in the shadows. No doubt they'd been watching this whole fight.

"Hrmph." Inks raked Chronicle up through the ghost's back and scowled. "Always something."  


>   
>  Inks: (End session?)  
>  ST: ((Yup.))  
>  Inks: Was fun! I loved the plot twist  
>  ST: 4xp +3 Sxp +1 mxp  
>  ST: How was that, then?  
>  ST: : 3  
>  ST: You liked?  
>  Inks: Yeah. There were a couple of rough bits with our pacing/cues to each other, but other than that really solid.  
>  ST: Hee. Yes. I'm glad you're enjoying. ^_^  
>  Inks: good buildup to a climatic finish.  
>  ST: what's your thought as to what's going on, if I may ask? :3  
>  Inks: A necromancer or similar is in the area trying to muscle in on El GalabI before Inks does; it could also be someone from Dead Cazhor, or even Tatter's Master.  
>  Inks: or some combination of the above.  
>  Inks: Also a note for future postmortem, you're doing a good job of making a plot twist that sits 'Ahead' of me instead of to the side or backwards.  
>  ST: I look forward to you expanding on that.  
>  ST: (and yes, I _did_ put a mountain on the other side of the southern valley so that Inks could carve a giant statue of herself looking down on the city if she wanted to)  
>  ST: (facing the sun, even!)  
>  Inks: Basically the impression I got is that Someone in the area is boring shadowlands into El Galabi's 'layer' with intent to get the ghosts out for their own purposes.  
>  ST: Hee~  
>  ST: :3  
>  Inks: as if I understand the metaphysics correctly, El GalabI is 'lower'  
>  Inks: so either they want the ghosts out to attack someone, or they want to invade via the shadowlands and skip the salt/wards  
>  ST: *grin*  
>  ST: alright, I had fun!  
>  ST: until next time~

  



	69. Session 69: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 12

  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Session 69))  
>  ST: {we cannot legally show this session due to it being a lewd extra between inks and vahti during the two-week wait for the rest of the troops to catch up}  
>  ST: ((Session 70 minus 1))  
>  Inks: (ahhaha lulz)  
> 

  
  
It took a little over two weeks for Pipera and the rest of the troops to arrive. Sixteen and a half days, to be precise, with a message from Pipera borne by the mountain breezes to Inks' ear apologising for their tardiness due to an unexpected sandstorm.

Happily, Inks had used the time well.

Chronicle was no humble blade- even with Inks's Exalted resilience, her arms burned after two hard weeks of drilling under Piercing Sun's withering attention.

It was no small benefit as well, to help Nabijah keep the other Deyha in line. Seeing their comparatively petite employer (as most Deyha were on the robust or statuesque side) swing around a weapon none of them could properly wield... Well it kept them from getting Ideas.

Between that and the constant scouting missions- by Ranger, Deyha and Tatters, Inks had filled her time wisely. Now in her fortress overlooking El Galabi, she had an earthen table with a carved model of the plateau and it's topography.

Sloping from north-west down to south-east, with El Galabi's urban temple complex in the geomantic center, Inks considered her plans.

"It's good we came here early," Piercing Sun grunted, tapping the western wall of the city. The damage is accurately shown there; a wearing away at the base of the stone ring with crude tools. "They ain't making quick progress, but if we'd left it till next year, they'd have broken through over Calibration."

His sharp eyes scanned over the rest of the model, taking in the flags that Inks and her advisers had planted along the potential lines of approach. There were three, spaced roughly around the city wall. One was on the damaged section itself - Inks could easily enough finish breaking through there, and it would allow her forces to move in easily. But...

"No more clue on what they're doing over there," reported Vahti. "Sorry boss. They're buzzing around the buildings just inside the wall in that sector every night, but I can't tell what they're doing. Or even what's doing it. I'm pretty bright at night, so I can't get close enough to tell if it's the monk-yidak or the new ones without getting spotted."

Armored but with her helmet on the map table, Inks reached over and pulled Vahti into a one-armed hug. "You're doing fine." She grinned. The mirth on her face faded as she looked back at the map.

"East- along the Realm Advance." She tapped the sculpture, noting the markers she left for the obvious hazards. "Open terrain but fouled by obsidian shards left over from the Legion sorcerers. Not something I want to put our cavalry through."

"North-" Inks walked around, fingers brushing along a trio of tall structures. "These water towers are an interesting ingress point, but they are also a bottle neck. Getting the Deyha in and out would be a nightmare- plus securing the towers themselves."

Sagacious Wing broke in then. "Good position for commanding field of fire though." And Inks smiled, agreeing to that point.

"The shadowlands on the otherside- and we can take advantage of their work on breaking through..." Inks intoned. "But once we commit, that's it. We have to cleanse as many of the ghosts as possible, because El Galabi will be open forever once we do that."

"I want to know who's trying to break into El Galabi..." Inks hummed. "But I don't _need_ to know, it's not relevant to our objectives."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Sagacious Wing rolls 4+5+3+8=20.))  
>  ST: !ex 20; [6, 4, 3, 4, 9, 4, 4, 9, 8, 2, 8, 4, 7, 1, 8, 9, 3, 4, 2, 5] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

  
  
"There are two possibilities - either allies of whoever is inside, or enemies that have established a beachhead in the west," Sagacious Wing spoke up. "If I were to guess..." she glanced briefly at her father and got a nod of agreement, "I would say the former. Not enough combat for an ongoing fight in there. Either something's placating and helping the yidak, or someone's taken over."

"Which means they're probably still consolidating, either way," growled Piercing Sun. "Alright then, if they want the wall down, we need to interrupt them before they can do it. Sun girl. Where will you breach?"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Wits+Awareness, Diff 7))  
>  Inks: !ex 5 +2; [5, 8, 6, 10, 1] was rolled for 5 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (drat)  
> 

  
  
He was challenging, demanding... but whatever he thought himself, he was keeping it close to his chest.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Oh,that was more a wits socialize thing wasn't it?)  
>  Inks: (Darn.)  
> 

  
  
"I don't like any of these options-" Inks declared. "This isn't about showing off or being the smartest or seeking glory." She ignored Nabijah's sullen eyeroll. "This is about... We've been looking at this all wrong!"

"Yidaks can be organized, and these ones might be- but usually they aren't." Inks looked up at Tatters, and she gave a hesitant nod. "So let's assume worst-case scenario and say that they are. They don't have logistics like we do- but again worst case: They out number us."

"We need to identify their weakest point and attack it. And then the next weakest. Over and over again until their ability to fight back is _done_. Where we breach is... useful but not relevant compared to that."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Int+War to start thinking of the logistical/strategic/tactical dimension. Where can we hit El Galabi for Maximum Effect. The goal isn't to get into some big battle, but to clean it of hostile dangerous ghosts so we can later cleanse the shadowland.)  
>  Inks: (Put another way, I need to define a SMART goal: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timely)  
>  ST: ((... yeah, but... you can't get the ghosts out of the shadowland without, y'know, getting rid of the ghosts. Which kind of implicitly means going in and murdering them, because there's not much you can do from outside the big stone walls.))  
>  Inks: (Oh yes I absolutely agree, fighting will happen)  
>  Inks: (Ah man, you know what else I forgot to do? Use Hinna's lab to make sunlight bombs)  
>  Inks: (Oh well!)  
>  Inks: (Anyway! The ghosts need to die, that's inherent in the plan. What I'm trying to get at, is that the ORDER in which they die can be gamed. Like... I don'tk now this in character and Id oubt you intend it)  
>  Inks: (but what if we killed the big ghost in the temple- under some situations, that would 'end' the battle because all the other ghosts would retreat orwhatever. That's not gonna happen, ghost sdon't work like that here- but that's the kind of question I'm asking.)  
>  ST: ((Yes, but that still needs you to _get into the city to kill it_. This is basically a choice of "which big environmental mass-combat setpiece do you choose as the video-game where you enter the city?"))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha.)  
>  ST: ((Which are intended to be about balanced on "pro" and "con".))  
>  Inks: (Sorry! I'm screwing up your plans a bit aren't I?)  
>  ST: ((Not so much "screwing up", since you're gonna have to clear the ghosts out of all three places anyway, but I'm not sure what your intent or idea here _is_.))  
>  Inks: (All of the options sound too risky and limited. I'm trying to think of a way... not to ignore them, but to engage with them better. I don't have enough information to make a decision yet. Thinking  
>  Inks: (This is very Quest Vote, now that I think about it.)  
>  ST: ((It is basically a quest vote for "what setpiece do you start your assault with?", yes.))  
>  ST: ((And then the mechanics and game engine will come into play once you're in it, with freedom to Do Clever Stuff and so on.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. That wasn't clear until This Moment. Sorry!)  
>  ST: ((I fully expect you to surprise me and do things I didn't expect, which is why I built all three as places and didn't focus on a "one true path" through them.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha x2)  
>  Inks: (Alright, coming to a decision then. Writing)  
> 

  
  
Inks gathered up the flags and markers representing her combined forces and laid them out on the map with a decisive sweep of her arm. "We approach from the west. Nabijah- you and your Dehya will ride adjacent in two groups.

"I expect that if we are attacked from either side, our heavy calvary will break the enemy charge." Inks put the marker describing herself in the foreward-middle of the pack. "I will address the walls with sorcery- but once they come down- we're committed- I _might_ be able to ward the breach after the fact, but nowhere near as strongly as the salt walls."  
  


>   
>  Inks: (There. Attack from the west side through the intact wall, breaching it in one go.)  
>  ST: ((Can I ask your reasoning for and against the others, just so I have it in mind for later? Or, hmm. I guess that's a postmortem thing. I'll be interested to see your reasons for picking this one over the other two, though!))  
>  Inks: (Water towers are a chokepoint, and chokepoints are murder. The realm advance has too many hazards that make the deyha useless, and I don't think any of our attached Sorcerers can blow the shards away)  
>  Inks: (The western approach has the most cover, but has the risk of it being an all-nothing push. But intact structures can be warded more easily meaning that even if the fight gets bogged down, we can endure.)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough. And now I laugh at myself for the fact that you picked the one I thought you were _least_ likely to pick. Ah, the wonders of STing. :P))  
>  Inks: (Push come to shove, I can establish a garrison at the breached wall.)  
>  Inks: (Plus it's the most brazen one. so... Inks gotta Inks)  
>  ST: ((Fair.))  
> 

  
  
"Hah," Piercing Sun said. Looking at him and his daughter, Inks gets the feeling they would both have gone for different approaches - the Sand Dragon for the open expanse of the Realm's breach where his plate-armoured Rangers could excel, and Sagacious Wing for the towers which could be cleared out slowly and methodically with as many retreats back over the wall as necessary, until they were a stronghold to spread out from.

But despite their differences in opinion, Inks is officially in command. And as far as Piercing Sun is concerned; it's her campaign to win or lose on her terms. So he grins that savage grin at her, and sketches a mocking salute.

"By your will, then," he says. "Commander."

* * *

When Pipera arrives, it's at the head of a horde of mercenaries and Rangers. There's sand still weighing down her burnoose despite her obvious attempts at neatness, and her cheeks look windchapped. She does not look happy about having been caught in a sandstorm en route.

But the rest of Inks' army is all there, and rather than complaints, Pipera's first words to her are "well, the plateau still seems to be here. Congratulations."

Inks takes that as the "happy to see you" and "well done" it probably means.

Laughing, Inks didn't pull Pipera into the hug she so desperately wanted to give- instead she peeled the bindi off her own forehead and pressed it to Pipera's, letting the little gem do it's magic.

While it worked, Inks quickly organized her troops while keeping an eye on the sun and her mental calendar. They day of their attack had to be auspicious, in time with the sun and moon...  
  


>   
>  ST: ((So, what's your planned timing?))  
>  Inks: (just so I'm clear, Full Moon is 'Dumb and Slow', or was that No Moon?)  
>  ST: ((Full. Moon is bad for Dead, same as Sun.))  
>  ST: ((Creatures of Darkness and Outsiders like nights with no Incarnae around.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, then the attack will happen on the Full Moon. is it one night only?)  
>  ST: ((I mean, it's a bonus dependent on how full the moon is, it's not something that turns on for one night and then off again immediately. But you'll probably get the strongest effect for a three-to-five-night period with the full moon in the middle.))  
>  ST: ((Ah, penalty. Not bonus.))  
>  Inks: (Right, 3-5 days is perfect tbh)  
>  ST: ((So, your planned attack point?))  
>  Inks: (The west, during the full moon. Ideally we bait out the outsider shadowland forces before I breach the wall, but if they don't come... Well I'll breach anyway. Better to fight on one front than two if possible.)  
>  ST: ((Right, so at night, presumably on the first night of that full moon period? The night of the 11-17th?))  
>  Inks: (yeah)  
>  ST: ((Okay. You've got two days - well, a day and a half - until then. Roll Wits+Bureaucracy with a +3 assistant bonus from Pipera to get everyone organised fast enough that they can rest fully before then. Also, y'know, announce your planned attack time and so on.))  
>  Inks: (writing!)  
> 

  
  
In the central grounds of her fortress, Inks gathered her assembled forces and their commanders. Having reclaimed her cleansing gem, Inks's armor appeared polished, to a gleaming shine that caught the rays of the setting sun as she faced west.

Her troops faced south, looking down the slopes towards El Galabi proper. There she rounded on them with a proud smile. "We march on El Galabi on the first night of the full moon! Our foes will be slack, sluggish and feral! To the western wall, where we will bait our foes out from their shadowlands, and then breach the cordon around El Galabi Proper!"

"Our Dehya will both lead the charge, and secure our flank against our enemy. Our goal is simple- the complete cleansing of El Galabi and the righteous demise of it's yidak-lord!"

"Rangers! You are trained, experienced and blooded against the greatest and worst the South can throw at you. You will be the core of this assault, securing all ground as we move. Our hired forces will supplement with flame and sword as needed!"

"Now all of you! I expect you to rest well and eat hearty!" She cupped her hands before her then, and between her palms and on every table, shield and surface, golden cakes appeared by the dozens. "We're going to war!"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunted, throwing in Food from Aerial Table to buff their pools against hunger and disease)  
>  ST: ((Nice. Any charms being used?))  
>  Inks: (Speed the Wheels, since it's an ORganizational Action, I could throw on Bureau Rectifying Method if there are any efficiency/corruption penalties)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. Roll it.))  
>  ST: ((Diff 6.))  
>  Inks: (stunt?)  
>  ST: ((2 dice.))  
>  Inks: !ex 15 +4; [3, 5, 1, 8, 6, 8, 2, 10, 9, 6, 7, 10, 2, 8, 8] was rolled for 14 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((holy shit))  
>  ST: ((um))  
>  ST: ((Okay! Your troops are in fact _so_ well rested that they get a +1 bonus to all Misc actions for the duration of the first day.))  
>  Inks: (Pfff)  
>  ST: ((literally what the fuck, Inks; threshold _8_ ))  
>  Inks: (pfff)  
> 

  
  
It was a work of mere hours to get everyone settled and organised and fed and bedded down; wellbeing and cheer spreading throughout the fort.

Long into the night, the men and women she had brought with her ate, and drank, and were many - for on the eve of the morrow, they would face Death.

* * *

The day of the assault seemed to drag on endlessly; stuttering out into the afternoon. There were no assaults from the Dead of the western crags - there had been three more over the last fortnight; each as easily cut to pieces as the first. Probing attacks; testing response time and battle strength.

There was none of that now. The distant wails of the Dead city had rung out the night before; drowned out by music and song within the fort but all too audible from the high balconies and watchtowers. Through the heat of the day it had sat silent; unknown and perhaps unknowable things lurking within.

As twilight drew in and the sun dipped low over the mountains, the El Galabi Reclamation Force marched out. Deyha heavy cavalry prowled on brutish, hulking hyenas. The Rangers of Gem; mail-clad with golden-tipped spears, marched in perfect lockstep unison. The ranks of mercenaries filled in the gaps; hard men with hard eyes who'd seen blood and combat and built their careers on both.

A force of almost a thousand - save for the skeleton watch left on the fort; deyha men and Ranger support staff - lined up to face the crumbling, damaged wall of El Galabi. In front of them, a Solar, two Dragonblooded, a fire duck and a deyha stood. Inks could feel Pipera's eyes on them from afar; back at the fort that she'd sworn to hold and send warning from should they fail.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (So no attacks from the western shadowlands today?)  
>  Inks: (yet, at least)  
>  ST: ((nope))  
> 

  
  
"Here we go..." Inks breathed open air one more time, before sliding the visor closed around her head. "Sentries, on alert!"

She called out to the scouts, those with spyglasses made of ancient shogunate lenses and hand-crafted wood or bronze tubes. To the Deyha with their keener noses, or Maji's own fierce night vision. Inks herself stalked forward as the army gave way for her. A boulder ahead gave her a commanding view of the western wall of El Galabi. "Range is good..." She raised an arm, but did not yet shape the sorcery.

"Scouts- report!"  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Generalized per+aware to see if any hostiles are lurking about, stunt/bonus?)  
>  ST: ((+2 bonus, roll it. Base Diff 2.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7; [10, 10, 1, 5, 10, 6, 8] was rolled for 7 successes.  
> 

  
  
The top of the wall was clear - of Dead, of course, but also thankfully of anything else. Whatever witchery was brewing behind there, it didn't appear to involve living servants. The crags behind them were likewise quiescent, with no sign or stirring of activity.

There was _something_ , though. The screams from the city were starting up again - the northern edge, mostly; the yidak there seemed louder than the rest from Inks' observations this fortnight past. But there was something just on the other side of the thick walls as well. A murmuring, chattering hum of many ghoulish voices; quiet individually but forming a susurrus all together. If Inks had to put a name to it, she'd call it...

... expectant.

Arm still extended, Inks called out to Piercing Sun. When the old warrior neared, she cocked her head to the side and spoke softly. "They know we're coming. Shame to dissapoint them, too."

The old sorcerer barked a laugh. "I'd open the way myself if I could still draw on Surmeth's oaths. Get on with it, gal. Show 'em what it means to defy Gem's will."

Raising her other arm, bent at the elbow with her palm open, Inks bid her forces form up and _brace_. Essence swirled in a fiery solar corona as Inks called upon the righteous power invested in the Sun's holy metal, forged to killing potency within Chronicle.

Calling the blade to her outstretched hand, she reared back and spun, launching the blade forward even as a great and fierce garda cry split the night sky!||  
  


>   
>  Inks: (using Celestial Army to queue up my forces so they're ready for the breach, then casting Flight of the Brilliant Raptor at the wall)  
>  ST: ((As a note, remind me when you do the postmortem to talk about Piercing Sun's Anchors in relation to this scene, because it's hilarious.))  
>  Inks: (duly noted)  
> 

  
  
The explosion blasted a vast chunk out of the wall - but not nearly enough to bring it down. That was never the idea, though. The impact itself was merely a good start. It was the magical flame; a burning sunstorm that could ignite even salt and stone, that ate away at the foundations of the great ring bit by bit over the next few minutes.

At first, it seemed that nothing was happening - that Inks would need to follow it with another garda, and maybe another after that. But then, gradually, the stone up above began to sag and fracture.

"Ware dust!" shouted Piercing Sun, and his Rangers snapped their helmet visors down in a synchronised motion. A few more moments was all it took before, with the deceptive slowness of a titan kneeling, hundreds of tonnes of stone came crashing down.

The dust of the dry, dead soil billowed high, high into the air, casting shadows down on the waiting forces. A normal force would have been blinded. The mercenaries she'd brought were. But the eyes of the deyha were hardier than those of mortal men, and the men of Gem's Rangers were safe behind sealed helmets; hard-derived remnants of an age gone by.

And, through the dust cloud, as the last light of twilight slipped away and only the moon and stars were left in the heavens, they came over the rubble and flickering, guttering embers.  
The howls of feral yidak as they charged.

"Spears and Shields at the ready!" Inks shouted, even as Chronicle reappeared in her hand and still dripping with tongues of enchanted flame. Behind and all around her, Rangers slammed their tall shields down with sorcerously enhanced spearheads fanned out in dense lines. Against a feral charge, there is almost no better counter than a line of spearmen!  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so this is a Mag 3 group of feral yidak who are charging out of the gate. You've got your Rangers with spears defending. The yidak are a) stupid and b) hungry, so they're coming straight at you - this is a very simple exchange. However, due to space constraints from the size of the gap in the wall and they way they're bottlenecking, you can only engage them with Mag 4 at a time.))  
>  Inks: (Makes sense)  
>  ST: ((Also, remind me, does your helmet help with visibility?))  
>  Inks: (it does, mostly against darkness)  
>  Inks: (+2 dice bonus general, and negates all darkness penalties save pitch black/no lightsources)  
>  ST: ((Wits+Awareness at Diff 2; -2 external penalty from the darkness and the dust cloud. Inks negates 1 point of the penalty - the darkness - but retains the dust cloud -1.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7 -1; [8, 5, 8, 6, 4, 5, 10] was rolled for 3 successes after modifiers.  
> 

  
  
As the first figures became visible through the dust and the dark, Inks frowned. These things... these things were not what she'd been expecting. They were yidak, certainly... but they were twisted things with insectoid or panther-like features. Others were humanoid, missing huge chunks of flesh or with great bite marks taken out of their corpuses. They weren't the shapes she'd seen when last she came here... ah. No, that was right. The monks weren't the only yidak in the city, were they? Some of these feral mutilated things were _Realm_ yidak; the ones killed when the monks had risen. And the others; the twisted animalistic ones... they must be those brought here.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Roll Join War. Rangers roll 10 - Mag 4 = 6. The yidak roll 5 - Mag 3 = 2.))  
>  ST: !ex 2 #yidak; [1, 9] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  Inks: !ex 6; [1, 1, 9, 2, 7, 7] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((Okay! The soldiers have first action!))  
>  Inks: (Excite!)  
>  ST: ((You have a +1 Magnitude bonus in your attacks, and the yidak are hitting you, uh, now, so there's no need to Move.))  
>  ST: ((So! Ranger Spear attack is Accuracy 11+1 Mag bonus. FITE!))  
>  Inks: !ex 12 "ranger spear attack"; [7, 2, 8, 9, 6, 2, 8, 7, 8, 8, 9, 5] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  Inks: (strictly speaking I should have waited for you to declare defense, buuut)  
>  ST: ((Yidak DDV is... 4. Soak is 2L, Ranger damage is 7L+threshold-soak. Have at it!))  
>  Inks: !ex 9 "Don't count 10s"; [5, 9, 9, 5, 4, 7, 7, 6, 5] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  Inks: (4 HLs of damage!)  
>  Inks: (Are we still using magnitude health rules? Every [X] levels counts as magnitude loss + rout check?)  
>  ST: ((Yup. In this case, the yidak are extras, so that knocks a full dot of Magnitude off them and reduces them to Mag 2. However, they get to attack now!))  
>  ST: !ex 5 #Yidak claw attack -2 Magnitude penalty; [2, 10, 8, 3, 3] was rolled for 1 success after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((sad harmonica noises))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... No that was wrong. If you don't box it in "quotes", it assumes any numerical notation is a penalty or bonus)  
>  Inks: (So they explicitly rolled 7d, -2d from magnitude, 5d actual for 3 sux)  
>  ST: ((oh, whoops. So that was... 3. Still not enough to penetrate DV.))  
> 

  
  
The wave of monstrous forms smashed against the shield wall... and suffered for it. Gold-tipped, sun-blessed spears stabbed and cut and tore into the creatures, dropping many. They tried to retaliate, clawing and swinging and even biting - but the men of Gem were well-drilled and well-trained. They stood firm, turning rending claws aside with spearhaft and shield as they struggled to spill warm blood.  
  


>   
>  ST: !ex 3; [6, 1, 4] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  ST: ((Yidak fail their Valour roll against rout))  
> 

  
  
So fierce was their defense, and so staggering the losses of the yidak, that the undead quickly routed. Some fled to the sides, but most - shrieking in hate and fear - fled back into the dust cloud, back into the city that was their prison. A rousing cheer went up from the soldiers as their first clash proved victorious.

"Don't expect it to stay that easy!" Inks called from her place atop the boulder- she didn't even have to swing her sword. "Advance with me- rearguard, stay alert!"  
With that declaration, Inks bid her force move and shift, reorganizing into a column that would let them push forward into the temple-city!  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Perception+Awareness for LOOKIN' AT FINGS and ADVENTURE ARCHAEOLOGY. If you want to drop your Sherlock charm at this juncture, you will be a cocky little show-off, but it will also be valid.))  
> 

  
  
Maji took the lead, using his great bulk to push aside the last fitfully burning rubble, clearing the way for infantry and cavalry. Inks was right on his paws, visored eyes scanning left and right. Low buildings- nothing much taller than four or five stories. Well-planned streets of expertly cut paving stones...  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Stunted, 12d)  
>  Inks: !ex 12; [2, 8, 9, 4, 9, 5, 3, 9, 9, 9, 3, 2] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((Ooo, _nice_. Just squeaked the +5 bonus.))  
> 

  
  
As the dust cleared, Inks entered El Galabi for the second time, and beheld what the Realm had wrought. Once upon a time, this city had been beautiful. The buildings were densely packed in curving rows along the spiraling roads, broken up by open spaces where the buildings had been... no, she realised. Those weren't ruins. They were too regular. Gardens, then - sun-gardens for worship, with decrepit, rusted fountains. And exercise yards, too. There were long-abandoned bits of exercise equipment; things to train the body and keep the monks healthy and fit. These were no pasty-faced anaemic academics - there was worship through the honing of the body here in its heyday.

And so much of it was still intact! Here, furthest from where the Realm had breached the peaceful city, the houses still stood and the roads were open and clear. But the beautiful sun-gardens had been marred by blade and hammer; spirals of worship and solar murals smashed and defaced. Old bloodstains were etched indelibly into the paved stone of the streets; marks that no amount of rainwater could wash out or wear away. Doors had been kicked out, windows had been splintered - the inhabitants here had been butchered in their homes; the last to die as the Realm cleaned up shop. Nobody had been spared. None.

Pointing at the buildings nearest the breach, Inks rattled off orders with a snake's speed and effiicency. "Sentries here, here and here at the main alleyways. Spearmen and shields backed by archers and flamewands." She pointed up at the roofs. "Clear these buildings and ward them- then put men on the roofs with commanding fields of fire. Go. Now!"  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay, double Per+Larceny roll here, from both the Rangers and from Inks. Diff 4. Ranger roll is 4+2+1 bonus from last night=7.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7 "Ranger larceny"; [5, 8, 1, 5, 6, 2, 8] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 12 "Per 5 Larc 1 1st ex 6"; [2, 1, 1, 2, 2, 6, 6, 10, 1, 9, 10, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
> 

  
  
It's Inks who spots it. The men don't see. They miss the thin hair stretched at knee-height across the open doorway of the nearest house. They don't think to wonder what the yidak - the clever, _sunblessed_ yidak and whatever outside agenda has been trying to _bring down the wall here_ \- might have been doing. They don't _think_ fast enough. They can't.

It's a trap. This building - this _area_ , probably - is _trapped_. They're dealing with yidak cunning enough - at minimum on the new moon, because these aren't all recent work - to make _traps_.  
This is very bad news. And the men are _still walking towards them-_

"Freeze!" Inks's words cut through the gloom, and she punctuates it with her daiklave held high to catch the moonlight- the gleaming silver light shone wetly against the tripwire.||  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Commanding the Ideal Celestial Army to leverage the 'Immediately make them do what I want' effect)  
> 

  
  
Every man stops immediately, confused at first... and then slowly spotting the hidden signs of tripwires and pitfalls and gravity-drops. Behind Inks, someone swears. She can't really blame them.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay. So, the clever, clever yidak have littered this part of the city with Traps. These take mechanics from Oadenols p69, except that they're not Dangerous Traps, so the Difficulty to spot them is 2 if you know to look and 4 if you don't, and Diff 2 Wits+Athletics to evade if they're sprung on you. Given that the men are in plate armour and have mobility penalties, it is a good thing Inks has sharp eyes.))  
>  Inks: (Neat)  
>  ST: ((Bypassing or disarming the traps requires Int+Larceny rolls at Diff 2 for each trap. The Rangers have pools of 5+1 Misc bonus for this, so they _can_ generally succeed - but it's going to slow down the advance. Which was probably the intent of leaving them here.))  
>  ST: ((Inks can eyeball the traps with Per+Craft to get an idea of the mindset that made them, if she wants.))  
>  Inks: (I will do so via OMTT)  
>  Inks: !ex 10; [7, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 3, 2, 1, 5] was rolled for 1 success.  
>  Inks: (...Imma reroll that at -1 external)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 -1; [9, 10, 1, 4, 7, 4, 10, 9, 9, 5] was rolled for 7 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (There.)  
> 

  
  
Inks examined the first trap that had caught her eye. A basic tripwire, leading to... yeah, a simple lever mechanism with a spike of sharpened stone and, oh, no, a counterweight too. The stone spike would be sent slamming into the side of the head - or neck, in a tall man - with more force than a mortal man could put behind it. Against good-quality plate, it might not kill... but less than that? Even a helmet probably wouldn't be enough.

Yes, the mind behind this was cunning, cruel and clever enough to understand that trespassers might wear armour. The craftsmanship was crude - there was no elegance in the device, and it was fairly obvious once you were looking for it - but there was a brutish power behind it and a hatred that spoke volumes.

 _This_ was the real enemy. Not the common yidak that charged blindly. The ones that could _think_.

Behind her mask, Inks sucked on her teeth and spread the word. "Watch every door- every shadow. Bring out torches and glowstones. These traps aren't sophisticated- but they're _everywhere!_ "

To prove her point, she thrust Chronicle forward into the doorway nearest her, and was rewarded by a heavy spike swinging through the otherwise empty portal- the trap ruining itself on the impact.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (I just realized these aren't fancy traps, they're just... traps. Sweep them out with sticks and be done with it.)  
>  ST: ((Well, I mean, some of them are - for example - pitfalls. Or alarm bells that will draw yidak. Not all of them are just counterweight spikes. But yeah, they're reasonably easy to disarm, for the most part.))  
>  Inks: (Alarm bells. After Inks exploded the wall)  
>  ST: ((Okay but you know what I mean. Some of them aren't the type that you can disarm just by triggering them. Especially the pitfalls, which are dug with a vicious mind for exactly where they're most obstructive.))  
>  ST: ((also lookit that snark, yo))  
>  ST: ((ur channeling pipera at me))  
>  ST: ((I'm so proud~))  
>  Inks: (Heh)  
>  Inks: (I think we can call the session on that)  
>  ST: ((Indeed.))  
>  Inks: I am having fun!  
>  Inks: pick up next week?  
>  ST: 4xp + 1mxp +4 Sxp for multiple great uses of Sorcery!  
>  ST: and yes  
>  ST: ^_^  
>  Inks: huzzah  
> 

  
  



	70. Session 70: The Campaign to El Galabi Part 13

It was a bright night. The full moon shone down over a dead city, and the long-abandoned buildings cut the silvery light into pools of dim illumination akin to a cloudy day, set side by side with patches of blackness so utter that they could be holes cut out of the world's mesh.

Iblan Inks stood within the walls of El Galabi, in command of an army a thousand strong, and surrounded by death in three forms. The shattered doors and broken windows of the empty houses gaped like mouths, screaming silently of the lives once lived here and the hollow absence left in their wake. The traps within them were crude but vicious; murderously devised mechanisms intended to cripple, maim and kill.

And in the unnaturally deep blackness lurked their architects. The first wave of base yidak she'd driven off were still retreating, shrieking in rage and hate, but their stronger kin had been alerted to the trespass on their domain. They were gathering, out there in the night. Soon they would come.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((Okay. So. We have three stages here.))  
>  Inks: (!)  
>  ST: ((First your men are going to roll Int+Larceny at Diff 2 to see how many traps they can disarm and how big an area they can clear and make safe. That'll set you up for the upcoming fight. They take a -2 blindness penalty for this, because the nature of the shadows in El Galabi means that any traps in shadow are in _total darkness_ , and the yidak are complete bastards who've put _all_ their traps in the shadows.))  
>  ST: ((While they're doing that, there are going to be some probing attacks, so Inks is gonna roll Perception+(Awareness or Occult) to grok what the Solar yidak are like and how they differ from the base kind - what you're gonna be up against, in other words.))  
>  Inks: (Tracking so far! When you say darkness penalty, do you mean subtract dice or subtract successes?)  
>  ST: ((Uh, whichever the blindness penalty in core is. Which I think is external. Clever tricks may get you a way to mitigate that.))  
>  Inks: (External, hence asking. What was the troop's pool again?)  
>  ST: ((5+1 bonus from last night.))  
>  Inks: (So Diff 2, minus 2 sux, on 6d. Not liking those odds...)  
>  ST: ((Hence "clever tricks". Torches, for instance, would be enough to change where the shadows are, and thus reduce the penalty by revealing most of the traps.))  
>  ST: ((Finally, once you've cleared the area, you'll have a short time - depending on how well you do on the "clear an area" roll - to prepare it for the yidak in this quarter assaulting you. Inks isn't sure _when_ that's going to happen or how long they'll take to gather, and her own actions (such as the torches) may modify it. Trying to clear a bigger area will obviously take longer and leave you with less prep time - trade-off. On the  
>  ST: ((other hand, while the yidak are massing, you can clear places more or less unopposed.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Gotcha)  
>  ST: ((The base area assumed by the roll is "one block"; you may stunt-change this as you wish.))  
>  Inks: (How many blocks into total comprise El Galabi?)  
>  ST: ((Gimme a mo to work that out.))  
>  ST: ((Yeah, okay. Each block is roughly 50x50m, ish - at least in area, if not literally a square. If you look at the map, you've got about two blocks before the first main circle road, then another two before the inner one, then a fifth before the temple - which is a megablock. Then the same on the other side. So ten blocks plus the temple from side to side.))  
>  ST: ((Something on the order of 150-200 blocks total in the city.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. That helps a lot)  
>  ST: ((The water towers at the north side probably count as a block - if you'd breached there, you'd be securing them.))  
>  Inks: (Stunting trap defusing and using OMTT to work on the per+occult roll... )  
> 

  
  
  
  
"Rangers." Inks declared. "Prepare yourselves with torches and glowstones. Banish the darkness as you clear the traps." Her mind whirled into action, holding two trains of thought by magic and sheer brilliance. "Vahti- to the air for a brief flyover. Find me the nearest courtyard or open space."

She continued to issue orders, dispensing advice and tactics with a curt efficiency and a faint hint of her normal flirtatious manner. With lives on the line, her commitment to excellence left no room for irreverence.

As Vahti took wing, the flame duck sketched a brief loop in the air before dropping back down at Inks's side, relaying the requested information. Slotting that into Inks's understanding of the tactical and strategic situation, she contemplated the inevitable counter-attack.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Okay, So orders given to use torches to banish the darkness, Vahti doing a quick recon pass (so I know what the neighboring blocks look like), Inks rolling per+Occult with OMTT.)  
>  Inks: (Stunt bonuses?)  
>  ST: ((Reduces the penalty to a -1 internal. +2 stunt. You're sticking with the one block? No additional time penalty, then. Go for it.))  
>  Inks: (Who's rolling for the rangers?)  
>  ST: ((You.))  
>  ST: ((Oh, you also have a +1 assistant bonus on the Perception roll from Vahti.))  
>  Inks: (got 4 sux on 7d for the ranger trap disarming)  
>  Inks: (and 4 sux on per+Occult; BTW I didn't really think to clear more, because I'm not sure how many people it would take to clear one? I have approx 900 bodies, so if I knew that like, 50 could clear one block, I'd be able to go 'Send 150 to be safe')  
>  ST: ((So it's not so much a question of "how many", because theoretically _one_ person could clear the whole thing given enough time - it's people per time. At the moment you're able to comfortably fit a max-size Mag 4 unit - 150 people - of your Mag 7 force into this one block without it getting overcrowded. That let you sweep the block in a five-minute action, largely unopposed by unfriendlies. Obviously with masses of yidak attacking you it will be a lot slower and you'll need many of them fighting back, etc.))  
>  ST: ((So. 4 sux on Per+Occult. Cool. I shall write.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
It's hard, dangerous work. Only so many people can fit through the hole in the wall at once, and Piercing Sun orders the deyha and their giant hyenas to stay back until the first block is clear. Grumbling, they oblige, and the armoured men of Gem swarm the area; shining torches and glowstones into rooms to reveal the savage traps concealed in them. Some of them are alarmingly cunning - one or two include explosive caches of firedust - but the Rangers are sharp, and none go off.

Rather, it's an ambush that brings the first casualties of the campaign.

It's part genius and part chance that Inks is there to see it. She'd considered the question of the city sewer system when she was first surveying the place from outside, and it hadn't left her mind. So she's paying attention to the pitfalls dug into the street as the men probe the paved surfaces for the undermined tiles rigged to collapse. Still, it's luck that she happens to be looking at the right one at the right time to see the  
stones give way to a spearhaft's cautious prodding... and a noose of ghostly entrails lash out to entangle its owner anyway, and drag him screaming into the pit. Another shape flickers up from the darkness - a _dismembered arm_ , ragged sinew and stretched muscle linking it back down into the sewers. It, too, throttles one of the men about the neck and hauls him down.

The third soldier is Elemi Sagacious Wing. She is like stone; as solid as a mountain, as immovable as the plateau they stand on. She does not fall to the blood-whip that tries to grapple her. She catches it in mailed hands, and _pulls_.

What comes out is a nightmare.

In life it was human, but the marks of its death are clear on its corpus. And this... man? Woman? This _monk_ , whoever they were, was _butchered_. Great cleaving rents mar its torso. A wet, sagging chasm crosses diagonally down its face. One hand was severed at the wrist and elbow, and hangs to the ground on elastic ropes of mottled, rotten tissue. Its spilled entrails writhe like a nest of snakes, winding around Sagacious Wing's arms and torso, trying to strangle her.

She breaks its spine over her knee, tears off the snarling tendrils, and brings a booted foot down on its chest with an impact that craters the ground.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Dang. So even the ground is hazardous.)  
>  ST: ((So! Inks has discovered that the ghosts in this sector of the city - the ones furthest from the Realm breach - are the _Butchered_. They were brutally stabbed and dismembered in their homes by the victorious forces of the Realm as they cleaned up and finished off the last few left alive. Their unique Panoply Charm among the ghosts of El Galabi is that their mangled corpses allow them to clinch and attack simultaneously, and give them the Reach tag.))  
>  Inks: (Hmm!)  
>  ST: ((So, Inks now has... one moment... yeah, 40 minutes to set up her block before the yidak finish mustering and get over their rout and come back to play for keeps. By default, it's assumed she can take 4 actions in that time to prepare her ground for a fight, though shorter or longer actions may take more or less.))  
>  Inks: (Alright. Are all the traps in this 1-block area cleared out?)  
>  Inks: (My 'picture' of this area is small roads and alleyways with various buildings ranging from 2-4 stories, all with artful floor plans and such that mean they aren't just blocky cubes. )  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (And then there is the main 'curved' road heading towards the center, whicih we haven't reached yet..)  
>  ST: ((Yup. Lots of curves and spirals, and the prayer-place type for this quarter is "sun gardens and open yoga areas".))  
>  Inks: (stunting)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
With the block 'cleared', Inks bid her forces to move. Dwellings and public spaces were raided for stone benches and similar- Inks lent her strength to cleaving down a decorative column to use as a barrier, while spearmen and firewanders formed up against the inevitable charges.

"We break them against our shields and spears, and then we burn them down!" Inks declared with a masked snarl. "Deyha, advance and prepare for counter-charge!"  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (SO my rationale is that by clearing the block, there is 'Room' for the deyha to come forward, as the cleared structures free up space in the 'center' for a new unit to join.)  
>  Inks: (So now ostensibly I have/want 2 units in the same block, with the rest of the force queued up outside the wall)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Okay. That's going to put them in close formation, though, which will impact the deyha's ability to maneuverer. Still, that's valid, and one of your actions, netting you twice the Magnitude.))  
>  ST: ((Or, well. Two Magnitude units... you know what I mean.))  
>  Inks: (Yeah I getcha. Okay... What other actions can I take? It's sort of an undefined space? Like fortifying the area? Setting wards? I don't know what I can do.)  
>  ST: ((You can fortify the area, either with wards or with improvised barricades. Sadly this is a shadowland, so RtEB won't work here, but you could totally demolish a wall or two with Chronicle, Piercing Sun and Sagacious Wing to get rubble. You could also repurpose some of the traps, set your own, or create persistent hazards like bonfires.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha, thanks)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Improvising more barricades and defenses, Inks continued to lead the charge, tearing down a handful of walls and more to build up a reserve of raw materials. Part of her winced at the handsome wood furniture she was wrecking upon the altar of expediency, but she could always make more later.

The wood was put to good use, piled up as bonfires and warding lines against deathly intrusion, and her trained Rangers wasted no time in laying the first lines of thaumaturgical warding.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Actions taken!)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay. Is she using sunstones or flaring her anima?))  
>  Inks: (I have sunstones?)  
>  ST: ((You have a few. The ones that were already in Hinna's lab - a personal amount.))  
>  ST: ((I'm assuming Inks took them along.))  
>  Inks: (Okay, then yeah I'll use the sunstones!)  
>  ST: ((Of course, you might also want to save them for later~))  
>  Inks: (Pff. Fine fine, I'll save them for later! I just wish I knew I had them)  
>  ST: ((But yeah, if you want, that's quick enough that it won't cost you an action. If you use 'em, describe how. You can set them to be light sources like glowstones, or break and throw them to, uh, wildly explode like breached hearthstones.))  
>  ST: ((PS don't do that second one if you're nearby))  
>  Inks: (I'll save them, thanks for explaining!)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  Inks: (so, I have stunted, what do I roll if anything?)  
>  ST: ((Okay, roll Int+(lower of Craft and War) for your battlefield preparations and positioning. Base Difficulty; thresholds will grant you bonuses in the following combat.))  
>  Inks: (City+besieging style applies?)  
>  ST: ((Very much so.))  
>  Inks: (5+4+4 style, any stunt?)  
>  ST: ((+2))  
>  Inks: (6 sux on 15)  
>  ST: ((Niiiiice. Threshold of five - a legendary!))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
She'd thought she'd have more time - perhaps she would have, if she hadn't brought fire into the city. Inks lost a few But as it was, the first screams began wailing immediately after her men lit the bonfires.

But Inks had anticipated that, and planned for it. So when they lit them, they lit them in unison, on Piercing Sun's ringing command, and the oil soaked into the wood lit them _fast_. By the time the howls began in earnest, a ring of fire and stone already encircled the block; cutting off their flanks and leaving only a few small openings for the yidak to funnel through.

And because Inks wasn't _entirely_ unable to learn from past mistakes, and remembered well a certain war game with the old bastard that was her tutor, she'd had some of those bonfires be lit from wood thrown down the pitfall traps that led to the sewers. There would be no yidak coming up from below in the middle of her troops to catch them by surprise - not here, at any rate.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((That was your legendary success bonus, btw. I was totally going to use it otherwise. :P))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
As the howls grew closer, there was a faint sound and a flux of essence near her. She brought Chronicle around... and found Tatters' ghostly kitten staring at her.

"I'm ready," it said in its mistress's voice. "And you should be too. Here they come."  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Okay! So, first of all, _entirely as I originally planned_ and not at all because I, uh, forgot to mention her at all last session or have her with the main group, *coughcough*, you have a Quantum Narrative Tatters Asset up your sleeve. Being a sneaky stealthy rogue build, Tatters has already snuck into the city on orders from Inks - you can "spend" her on a mission potentially anywhere in the city at any time, since she's pretty mobile and _super discreet_. Once spent, she's on the board as a normal asset and can't move around to where she's most useful off-camera. This is a quest-like asset that you get to spend as a high-level choice, though her actions once committed to something will be worked out mechanically.))
>> 
>> Inks: (Makes sense.)
>> 
>> ST: ((Secondly, due to your _exceptionally good_ battle preparations, the yidak can't come at you from below due to the sewer entrances being both on and full of fire, and are limited to attacking you through chokepoints. The basic upshot of this is that while there's a Mag 5 bunch of them out there, only low-end Mag 3 groups can get into your fortified area at a time, whereupon they meet the Mag 4 groups of Rangers and deyha waiting for them and go ":(" ))
>> 
>> ST: ((That said, you're still going to have to expand at some point.))  
>  Inks: (Absolutely)  
>  ST: ((So, the first lot hitting you are the base yidak being driven back onto your swords by their smarter kindred. There are two groups of them attacking through your two major chokepoints, and you've got your deyha and Rangers ready.))  
>  Inks: (Gotcha. Resolve attack rolls?)  
>  ST: ((Join War! The yidak roll their Wits+War pool of 5, minus their Magnitude, for a pool of 2.))  
>  ST: ((... the group attacking the... deyha manage a surprisingly high result of 3 successes! The Rangers' group only get 1.))  
>  Inks: (2 sux)  
>  Inks: (or, no you're rolling! Nevermind)  
>  Inks: (So two incoming units, one targeting rangers, one targeting deyha. I roll the unit's join war as well?)  
>  ST: ((Now, the Deyha are not very good at War, and thus roll 3+1+1 bonus-4 for, um, 1. But the Rangers are better off, and roll 3+3+3+1 bonus-4=6.))  
>  ST: ((Roll 'em.))  
>  Inks: (Deyha Botch, they go last)  
>  Inks: (Rangers roll 2 sux  
>  ST: ((Lol.))  
>  Inks: (So Ghost v Deyha is Tick 0, Rangers Tick 1, Ghost v Rangers tick 3, Deyha Tick 6)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The dark of the night is lit by flickering fire, and the howling masses charge. The Rangers are expecting it; trained and ready even as they light the bonfires. The deyha aren't. Maybe it's arrogance, maybe they just weren't expecting the _shocking suddenness_ of the charge, but they're taken aback and left fumbling for weapons as the hungry ghosts close in.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((I should have asked ahead of time which group Inks stationed herself with - is she at either chokepoint, or is she staying in the middle as base command and rapid response? By default, the commanders at each point are Sagacious Wing and Nabijah. Piercing Sun is in the centre of the block on a rooftop vantage point.))  
>  Inks: (Base command and rapid response w/ Maji)  
>  ST: ((Cool.)
>> 
>> Inks: (So the ghosts attacking the deyha are first, you get to declare attack step 1!)  
>  ST: ((Okay, deyha yidak go first! They roll their close combat pool of 7, minus their Magnitude penalty, for a pool of 6! 3 successes, alas, is not enough to penetrate deyha Parry DV, and they once again fail to do any actual serious damage.))  
>  ST: ((The Rangers now act with their pool of spear pool of 11+1 Mag bonus against their own foes.))  
>  Inks: (Ghost Defense?)  
>  ST: ((DDV 4.))  
>  Inks: (wow, 3 sux)  
>  ST: ((Heh. The ranger-yidak have the same roll as the deyha ones; get 3 sux again, and also fail to do any damage. Neither yidak group retreats in Tick 4 or 5 as they try to claw their way through the Blockade Movement actions going on at each choke point. And the deyha, once they get their act together, roll 11+1 against the yidak that took them by surprise.))  
>  Inks: (3 sux for deyha)  
>  Inks: (you're not using magnitude as autosux right? Just dice?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah.))  
>  Inks: (So four swings, no hits)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
From her position on a rooftop at the centre of the block, Inks can see the ring of fire and collapsed buildings spread around her. The chokepoints are a chaotic mess of screaming melee. The yidaks can't get past the impenetrable thicket of spears at one entrance or the brutish chopping swords at the other. But without venturing out onto unsafe ground, neither can her own troops catch the fast-moving Dead with anything more than glancing  
blows. They're just _too fast;_ too agile, always leaping away from the thrust of a spear or the swing of a blade.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Is Inks going to change tactics or intervene? If not, next round!))  
>  Inks: (writing!)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Leaping from her perch with Maji on her heels, Inks landed on the paving stone exercise yard nearest the Rangers with a sharp two-beat click of her boots. "Rangers! Pull back and envelop!"

Order given, Inks called upon the power of her bond to Vahti, coaxing the elemental flames into righteous purity and drawing a cleansing diagram of dripping heat upon the air around her.

It was a matter of timing, but at the ideal moment, the Rangers would give way to the 'soft' target wielding hated flame...  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Joining the Rangers, casting Purifying Flames.)  
>  Inks: (Since this is Long Ticks, basically Inks spends 5 minutes Shaping (Current Action) and then 0-minutes casting. And then she Joins War properly)  
>  Inks: (So this is Round 2, technically still.)  
>  ST: ((So, hmm, the fire is explicitly slow - it moves languorously through a ten-yard radius over the next nine minutes. Is the intent here just to replace the Rangers with Inks, or to let the yidak in and then cut them off from behind so they can't just dodge out of range?))  
>  Inks: (The latter. The timing is crucial, as basically Inks needs to cast, and then the yidaks need to get into range. If thetiming fails, I still at least get to push the flames' forward' a bit, since they're harmless to anything pure/not dead)  
>  Inks: (So 5 ticks shaping, and then 1.1 yard every tick afterwords moving forward)  
>  ST: ((Cool. Okay, well, you're spending Round 2 on your Shaping action while the Rangers fall back and lure the yidak in. So they're taking Move actions to pull back into a "U" around the opening, intending to close it into an "O", and still fighting. The deyha... *rolls*... haven't changed strategy, and Nabijah is doing the cautious, sensible approach of remaining in the fortified position rather than charging out in frustration to hack at the agile little fuckers in a rage..))  
>  ST: ((And yes, she had to make a Temperance roll for that. :P))  
>  Inks: (Heh)
>> 
>> ST: ((Unfortunately, the deyha-assaulting yidak roll _5_ successes this time; beating the deyha Parry DV of 4. They roll 6L damage, which is reduced to ping by the 6L armoured soak of the deyha's chain hauberks. That's 1... is that Bashing or Lethal?))  
>  Inks: (Whatever damage type the attacker uses)  
>  Inks: (so yes you can in theory do Aggravated Ping, for example  
>  Inks: (Hmm. Strictly speaking,Inks needs to roll jon war first herself, and if she gets 3 or better, she can immediately segue into casting, I'll do that)  
>  Inks: (Whew! Rolled 3 sux, Inks is on the same tick as the ghosts attacking the Deyha, and immediately segues into a speed 6 Shape Sorcery Action. So Deyha-Ghosts are Tick 5.)  
>  Inks: (As of this attack we're resolving)  
>  ST: ((Kk. Meanwhile, sigh, the yidak manage to do 1 level of damage to the dehya group. Dammit girls. Get your acts together.))  
>  Inks: (clearly the Deyha are Krogan-alike and will go into blood rage)  
>  ST: ((Hopefully the Rangers will have better luck. They don't need to Flurry their Move, so they're still at full dicepool for the backin' away while stabbin'.))  
>  Inks: (12d for the rangers)  
>  Inks: (7 sux?)
>> 
>> ST: ((Haha, nice. 3 sux over DV. They roll 10L damage - 2L soak, so a pool of 8.))  
>  Inks: (4 damage sux!)  
>  ST: ((And they roll them down a Mag bracket in one go! The yidak themselves don't manage anything. On the two open Ticks they try to Move back out through the chokepoint... aaaand find that the Rangers have closed the loop. The deyha, hopefully, put in a decent showing with the same pool once again.))  
>  Inks: (six attack sux!)  
>  ST: ((2 sux over DDV! Damage roll is 10L+2 threshold-2 soak=10, with 2 Overwhelming.))  
>  Inks: (So 10 damage dice?)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "don't count 10s."; [5, 9, 6, 1, 10, 3, 9, 7, 9, 10] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  ST: ((Yes.))  
>  Inks: (six damage sux!)  
>  ST: ((Uh... wow. That, um. Wow.))  
>  ST: ((Yeah. Um. That knocks them down a Mag bracket, since they're extras, and... I think might actually knock them down _another, additional_ Mag bracket after that, which reduces them to Mag 1, which is, uh, only one yidak left. Who Nabijah promptly decapitates.))  
>  ST: ((Christ.))  
>  ST: ((Anyway, uh, this is also Inks!))  
>  Inks: (Yes! Speed 0 Casting Action)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The radiant mandada hovering before her outstretched arm brightened to a searing intensity, casting righteous shadows across the courtyard and painting the walls with shadows of soldiers and horrors.

The diagram burst, unfurling into an almost lazy circle of cleansing fire that spilled out around Inks's feet, even as she gathered herself up to join the fight proper!  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Does the fire follow Inks, or is it stationary?)  
>  ST: ((I'm hilariously tempted to say it's stationary and that you just cast it in the middle of the block, lol. But no, it follows her. That said, you're in the middle of the block, 20 metres away from the action. How are you getting there?))  
>  Inks: !ex 8 "Join War."; [5, 7, 1, 5, 5, 6, 9, 5] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: (Okay, Inks acts again on Tick 14, to answer your question, she moves [5] yards per move action thanks to her kick ass boots, so on the open ticks, she moves ahead to join the rangers)  
>  ST: ((Not using Jump?))  
>  Inks: (Jump would require me to flurry, and I can't. I have to Join War, and I can't take any action unless I 'Join' fast enough)  
>  ST: ((Fair enough then!))  
>  Inks: (Basically joining battle mid-fight means the 'speed' of the JB action is set by my roll. I can't take any non-reflexive action until tick 14)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, gotcha.))  
>  ST: ((Cool, so we're on Tick 13 now, and, uh, the deyha-yidak can't act because they're all dead. The Ranger-yidak try to flee again, and again fail due to the Blockade Movement action, leaving the Rangers to act on tick 14 with Inks, who is now 15m away.))  
>  Inks: (Clarify- Inks cast the spell on tick 10?)  
>  Inks: (pretty sure that's when she got stuck in.)  
>  Inks: (Tick 0: Deyha Ghosts, Tick 5, Dehya-Ghosts + Inks SHapes Sorcery. Tick 11. Inks cast spell and joins battle, can act again on tick 14. That means she has Ticks 11, 12 and 13 to spend Movement Actions on. Ergo she can move 15 yards~)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Okay, sure.))  
>  Inks: (...GRANTED this is also Mass Combat, so Long Ticks, so in theory we should be doing this at like x20 speed modifier or whatever corebook says!)  
>  Inks: (By RAW Purifying Flames can ONLY be cast on long ticks)  
>  ST: ((AN EXCELLENT POINT))  
>  ST: ((We will forget that we brainderped on this matter.))  
>  Inks: (Kek!)  
>  Inks: (Anyway, so I think we're in agreement that Inks's plan works, specific aside)  
>  ST: (Indeed. You can stunt the conclusion of the Ranger Chokepoint as I go off and nom on food quickly.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
With the ghosts hemmed on three sides and Inks making the forth, she waded into their number with a steadily growing storm of flame swirling about her. Taint and corruption, blight and death were cleansed in searing tongues of elemental fire even as it passed harmlessly over the skin and armor of the Rangers and their panoply.

When the first curls of fire touched dead flesh, the myriad horrors squirmed and shrieked, begging for mercy from madness and stranger things besides.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (On contact, they take 10WP unsoakable agg dice)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "don't count 10s."; [6, 9, 10, 3, 10, 8, 9, 1, 10, 2] was rolled for 9 successes.  
>  Inks: (6 damage sux in agg)  
>  ST: ((lol pwned))  
>  ST: ((Okay!))  
>  ST: ((So, that's about it for the base yidak - that was the remnants of the group that got their asses kicked when you brought the wall down, and you pretty much just party-wiped the rest of them. What will Inks do now?))  
>  Inks: (So we've cleared one block, and there are hundreds to go. Let's clear another chunk of territory before pushing forward to the main avenue leading to the temple. I don't think we need to go as fine-grained on the combat and clearing until something Dramatic shows up?)  
>  Inks: (So like, I roll to give orders, my troops roll against Traps and Hostiles, we see what happens?)  
>  Inks: (I don't expect/intend to be able to clear all of El Galabi, and narratively speaking I think it'd be more interesting if we pushed for the temple sooner rather than later)  
>  ST: ((Cool. So which side are you going to try to clear?))  
>  ST: ((Is Inks heading for the north, south or east block relative to her entrance?))  
>  Inks: (Hmm... Well 'West' is all traps and such. And we haven't cleared the entire western side either. North had the water towers full of possible gribblies... Sure, let's start in the west and curve northerly towards the temple.)  
>  ST: ((No, I mean, like))  
>  ST: ((Relative to the block you're on _right now_ , are you going to push to either side around the wall - north or south - or push west towards the Temple? Westward gets you to the outer ring-road.))  
>  Inks: (Oohhh! Okay, Westward then!)  
>  ST: ((Hee hee hee. Okay, so who's she taking?))  
>  Inks: (Hmmm... Deyha and a fresh group of rangers, leaving the current group to recover while more of her army comes into the cleared block.)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
For a few long minutes, they watch and wait at the gate. But the monk-yidak are, if not _smart_ , at least not stupid enough to throw themselves at a choke point. Inks cycles fresh men in to take up the watch on their claimed block, and gathers up a group to push westward.

It was a good thing too. Nabijah looked very much like she'd been considering the virtues of pushing south to claim the next block along the wall. She's happy to hear that Inks will be taking the fight towards the temple, and waves a hand at the deyha who were injured by the yidak that broke through the line.

"We got some injured," she said carelessly. "Most of 'em got cut up a bit. It shouldn't slow 'em down much and it'll make for good scars, but sure, I'll bring in fresh girls for the push."

"As long as they don't die." Inks joined the group with a striding march while Maji prowled at her side. She could feel Piercing Sun's attention drilling into her back.

"We push west- hard and fast." She pointed at the changing character of the neighborhood as they picked through the side streets and avenues. A number of bridges spanned between buildings- artistic things that belied the strength of their carved stone.

"I want archers on that high ground." She called back to the mercenaries, rattling off more orders with a considered hum. "We're clearing a line to the temple- let's not get spread out too thinly yeah!"  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Stunted, ready to roll if appropriate)  
>  ST: ((Okay, you've still got traps to deal with here - are you going in fast and hard and trying to tank the traps, or disarming as you advance?))  
>  Inks: (Disarming as we advance)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, so you're leaving a Mag 5 combined unit behind to hold the entrance block, and taking... two Mag 4s again? Hee.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The sound of cracking knuckles comes from beside her, and she finds Piercing Sun shrugging his shoulders and loosening his sword. He throws her a grin at her look.

"My daughter'll stay here and hold our exit," he explains. "But I can hardly judge you as a commander if I'm not here. I'll be commanding the Ranger force we take in. Think of me as any other commander, and I'll follow your orders like one." His grin is a horrible thing at that blatant lie, but the earth doesn't open up in protest and swallow him.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Okay. So, you're making a slow advance this time, wary of more attacks. So it's going to be five ten-minute actions to move forward in stages and clear the block exhaustively while keeping a guard up for attackers. The roll is the same as it was at the start; Diff 2 Int+Larceny at -1 from darkness, pool of 5+1.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 "don't count 10s."; [4, 10, 6, 7, 7, 2] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  Inks: (3 sux!)  
>  ST: ((Nice!))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
At first it goes well. They push out; the shield-wall spreading out in a half-circle from the chokepoint, and start using fire and steel to clear the traps. They're much of the same make, brutal and cunning - and in ones and twos there are yidak here; the last few remnants of the ones demolished at the wall and the first block gates. Generally they're trapped in rooms they can't get out of without exposing themselves to the light of the torches, or else pinned by the traps - the devices here aren't discriminating in who or what they target. Still, that makes them easily dispatched, and soon enough they have a beachhead into their second block.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Second roll!))  
>  Inks: (Another larceny check, or a war roll?)  
>  ST: ((Larceny.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; [1, 7, 1, 8, 4, 5] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  Inks: (threshold 0)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Progress bogs down a little after that. There's more ground to cover as they spread out to cover the width of the block, and there's one particularly fiendish trap set up to collapse a building and expel stone shards out the front that would have definitely claimed lives if a sharp-eyed sergeant hadn't spotted how the ceiling-braces were rigged to collapse inward and trigger a cave-in. The deyha are getting antsy, too. Nabijah isn't a fan of this slow grind forward, and only the Rangers' discipline is preventing _them_ from chafing under the oppressive silence of the city and the feeling of being watched from the too-deep shadows.

Which is of course exactly what whoever ordered this area trapped intended, Inks thinks. They _wanted_ any attacking force to lose its nerve and break formation and charge forward in a desperate attempt to fill the silence and turn the creeping horror into action, where they could at least _do_ something.

Psychological warfare is a bitch.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Third action. Larceny roll again.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6; [6, 1, 2, 5, 1, 1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  Inks: (Wah Wah)  
>  Inks: (Oh shit, that's a botch)  
>  Inks: (can I roll wits+aware and use Ideal Celestial Army to send a warning?)  
>  ST: ((You absolutely can! Beat Diff 3 for it on the Wits+Aware roll.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7 +2; [8, 10, 9, 2, 10, 3, 6] was rolled for 8 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Cool. Stunt ur warning! The trap is... hmm... one of those really nasty firedust traps, with some sort of possibly-air-hearthstone-fuelled shrapnel bomb in it as well.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Inks's anima flared out in brilliant hues of scarlet and umbral purple, overtaking the sound of her voice as she cut through the din of moving soldiers and screaming dead. "Hold and brace!"

The Rangers obey instantly, not questioning or hesitating. They duck behind their shields or throw themselves flat as a paving stone that hadn't been put back _quite_ right after being dug up shifts down by an inch. The unassuming but too-regular pile of rubble beside it shifts, something complicated and jagged is revealed inside...

... and the explosion is deafening as it erupts into fire and shards of stone. The screams are from the living this time - the unarmoured hyenas, luckily, are too far back to be hit, but the gout of flame fills the street for a moment before guttering out, and the flying stone takes its toll. Inks hears Piercing Sun's sulphurous swearing from somewhere on her left - the old dragonblood taken by surprise as much as she was.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((You can probably guess what I'm going to ask now~))  
>  ST: ((Jooooiiiin War!))  
>  ST: ((Inks can contribute her efforts to help one of her Mag 4 groups here, if she wishes.))  
>  ST: ((Piercing Sun will be roaring at his Rangers.))  
>  Inks: (Okay! Inks and MAji will buddy up wiht the Deyha, so we'll allgo at the same time)  
>  Inks: !ex 8 "wits 2 war 4 +6d -4d = 8d"; [8, 8, 5, 9, 1, 4, 9, 8] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: (That's Inks and Deyha)  
>  Inks: (Piercing Sun and co roll?  
>  ST: ((Nice. Piercing Sun, meanwhile, rolls 3+5+3 Style+8 Ex-4=15 for 7 sux, natch.))  
>  ST: ((And your _new guests_ , tee hee, roll 4+3+3-4=6 for... wow, 1 sux. Damn, solar yidak. You really fucked the dog on that one. I guess they fell victim to the side effects of their own ambush, lol.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
A bloodchilling screech split the air. Not from the men on the ground, or the deyha. From the roofs. Lit by the fireball, Inks saw them. Yidak. And not base yidak either. No. These were the Butchered of El Galabi, ringing the group on two sides. And there must have been almost a hundred of them up there.

The one saving grace that spared her soldiers was that the fireball had affected the Butchered as badly as her men. Perhaps they'd forgotten it was there; made stupid by the moon, or perhaps they simply hadn't know the exact moment it would trigger and had been taken by surprise. Whatever the reason, they cringed away from the hated flames; the pure element a bane against their undead existence.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Okay, so the Rangers go on Tick 1, the deyha go on Tick 3 and the yidak go on Tick 6.))  
>  Inks: (Nice.)  
>  Inks: (Piercing Sun is in command of the rangers, looking forward to see what he does. Strictly speaking, Inks can't give orders until her acting tick on 3)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
"Archers!" Piercing Sun bellows, sounding _absoultely furious_. "Shields up! Lasso formations!" The rangers move like a well-trained machine to follow his commands, clumping together into groups and arraying their shields in circular rings to prevent any easy targets to grapple and drag up to the roofs. Others, within the rings, ready their bows and take aim at the figures above.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((So Piercing Sun is ordering a formation action - basically a planned combination of Guard, Defend Other and Ready Weapon that's intended to create penalties to ranged clinches on individual targets - originally developed for lasso-users. His archers are taking an Aim action to fire on Tick 4.))  
>  Inks: (Neat!)  
>  Inks: (Are all the ghosts on high ground compared to us?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, they're on the roofs on two sides of you.))  
>  Inks: (I assume they're quite close to us as well. Within 20-30 yards?)  
>  ST: ((Yeah. They're basically looming on the rooftops on either side of the street you just got exploded on.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
"Nabijah! Get ready for assault over rough terrain!" Inks let out a wild laugh and waved Maji forward with a flick of her daiklave- and together the pair charged!

Not up the wall towards the ghosts, no daring acrobatic leap of Exalted prowess- no, Inks and Maji charged for the building itself, throwing bronze tiger and sun's gold at the nearest weight bearing walls. Inks trusted her calculations, planning and predicting where and how the rubble would fall!  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Okay, so technically Inks is a Hero attached to Nabijah's unit, but this is all wobbly 'Figuring it out as we go' mechanics. Fundamentally The idea is this:)  
>  Inks: (Inks and Maji are going to knock the building down, spilling the ghosts onto the ground and making it easy for Nabijah to charge into them. She's using OMTT to plan out her demolition game.)  
>  ST: ((They're not all on one building - they're spread out along the street - but that'll certainly take out a few of them! Wits+Craft at Diff 3 to pick the right spots, -2 internal to do it _really quickly_ , and then you'll be resolving as an attack against the building to Damage it sufficiently.))  
>  Inks: (stuuuuunt?)  
>  ST: ((Oh right. Hmm... +2. Good use of the environment.))  
>  Inks: !ex 14 "wits+craft + 1st craft); [5, 4, 1, 6, 7, 8, 3, 4, 5, 10, 1, 1, 8, 2] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 16 "Inks Attacks w/ Chronicle, Diff 1 DV 0"; [1, 5, 9, 6, 9, 2, 5, 7, 4, 2, 2, 4, 2, 3, 10, 3] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: !ex 9 "Maji Attacks with PAW, Diff 1 DV 0"; [3, 7, 7, 9, 3, 6, 5, 2, 9] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  Inks: (So Inks deals 21 damage, Maji something like 11. Soak for stone is like 10L.)  
>  ST: ((hold on...))  
>  ST: ((12L soak, 20 hls to damage it. Damage past soak is automatic levels.))  
>  Inks: (note that you can rule it as destroying Sections, not the whole structure as needed)  
>  ST: ((Yes, she's attacking a section of Stone Wall. So Inks deals 9 damage but Maji doesn't overcome its Hardness. The wall holds.))  
>  ST: ((Did Inks leave any instructions for her deyha while doing this?))  
>  Inks: (Implicitly the idea is to wait for it to collapse and spill the ghosts down, but since I didn't deal enough damage... In hindsight I should have flurried)  
>  Inks: (Oh wait, wait wait! Forgot something~)  
>  Inks: (Chronicle is *piercing damage*  
>  Inks: (So Inks deals 21-6 = 15 damage, still not enough to take it down, but Better)  
>  ST: ((Indeed!))  
>  ST: ((So, the next tick, the archers loose. They've taken an Aim action for a +1, so that's Accuracy 7. No Mag bonus since it's Mag 4 vs Mag 4 - actually, hmm. The archers are basically a sub-Magnitude inside the Rangers. -1, then, cancelling out the Aim. Accuracy 6.))  
>  Inks: (Okay, so strictly speaking... Nabijah and the Deyha are Guarding, officially)  
>  ST: ((Cool.))  
>  ST: ((Incidentally, if they weren't deyha and didn't have empathic bonds with their hyenas, I would be throwing a _shitload_ of Control Animal rolls at you right now.))  
>  Inks: (hahaha)  
>  ST: ((Roll for 'em, then.))  
>  Inks: (Roll what exactly, lemme think.)  
>  Inks: (The Deyha are basically guarding for 3 ticks, so they'll act again on Tick 6 along wiht the massed Yidak. Inks and Maji are technically on Tick 8.)  
>  Inks: (Will act again on tick 8, I mean. Since I didn't get to break the building down in one go like I wanted  
>  ST: ((Okay, but first the yidak act. And they're going for ranged grapples against the deyha.))  
>  Inks: (Sounds good!)  
>  Inks: (WEll, Yidak and Deyha 'act' on the same tick, but since the Deyha can't Reach... Go on!)  
>  ST: ((Since these are Butchered, their special charm lets them clinch _and_ attack at the same time without flurry penalties. Their Clinch is Accuracy 7, their attacks with rusted weapons held in loops of entrails or dismembered limbs are Accuracy 8.))  
>  ST: ((Luckily, they only get 2 sux on their Clinch, so the deyha can apply their DVs against the attacks. Unluckily, they get 5 sux on the attacks, and beat the deyha Parry DV by 1.))  
>  Inks: (Minor pause- are you conflating the attack roll to Land a clinch with the damage dealing crush, or are you saying they can take two independent actions of 'Attack and Clinch'?)  
>  ST: ((Attack roll to land the clinch. Oh! You were meant to be rolling the Rangers archery. I forgot about that, fuck. 6 dice.))  
>  Inks: !ex 6 "archers!"; [8, 7, 6, 3, 8, 8] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  ST: ((Not quite enough to beat their DDV 4, alas.))  
>  Inks: (Okay, so archers missed, WE're on tick 6, Butchered have made 2 attacks total; Clinch followed by a regular close combat attack. Deyha are hit by 1+damage+str; minus deyha soak.)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so the yidak have... uh, _3_ threshold over deyha DV, because I forgot to turn the "10s count twice" back on after rolling damage a little while back.))  
>  ST: ((They roll Damage 11/2 +3 threshold - 6L soak; 8L rolled. It becomes apparent that these yidak are considerably stronger than their base kin, and are also smart enough to use rusted weapons. 4 damage done; reducing the deyha by a point of Magnitude. Yow.))  
>  ST: ((Hang on and I'll describe.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The wall cracked and splintered at Inks' mighty blow! But it didn't break, and Maji's claws raked it to no avail. The arrows flew. But the things on the rooftops were too swift and too canny to be struck. They dodged with insulting ease - and then retaliated.

Rotting flesh lashed out to ensnare the deyha below; rusted weapons of the Realm held in loops of intestine or mangled, half-severed fingered. The deyha were too strong to grapple; hacking and chopping their way through the slippery, stinking binds - but the weapons took a horrible toll. The yidak were unnaturally strong; stronger even than the hyena-women, and the terrible jaws of their mounts could not save them from a foe that attacked without ever leaving the rooftops. One by one, the deyha fell; thinning their numbers and staining the ground with blood.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((plz refresh me on where everyone is on the tick counter; it's been a day and I've lost track))  
>  Inks: ( when we started, Rangers AImed Tick 1 and Fired on Tick 4, the deyha were set to Guard on Tick 3, acting on tick 6, and the yidak Attacked Tick 6. Inks, having joined battle alongside the Deyha as a Hero, split off to take her own action and attack one of hte buildings on tick 3 alongside Maji. Both took speed 5 actions, so they get to act again on tick 8.)))  
>  Inks: (Rangers get to act on Tick 9, Yidaks attacked the Deyha and dealt 1 magnitude of damage to them, Depending on Yidak action Speed, they are acting again on tick 11 or 12. Note that there are lots of Open Ticks for Movement.)  
>  Inks: (It is now Officially Tick 7.)  
>  Inks: (Correction, Tick 6, as the Deyha have not acted yet. Can they take any action- recover lost magnitude, attack the ghosts, etc?)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. They can't attack - out of range. What do you mean by 'recover lost Magnitude'? Like, try to stabilise the fallen? That's an interesting idea, does it have backing in RAW?))  
>  Inks: (Yeah, lemme grab the book...)  
>  Inks: (Posted you the rules via discord- So Nabijah is the unit commander at the moment, she'd roll Cha+War/Perf + Style at Diff [Current Mag - Drill]. Inks can boost that drill with her shoes).  
>  Inks: (From Discord: Okay, I'll let them do a special Rally with Dex+Medicine to do EMERGENCY WOUND-WRAPPING. Dex 3, Medicine 0, Soldier's Triage Style 2 (+1 bonus to staunching wounds), and they'll channel Conviction 3. Speed 4)  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [3, 5, 5, 6, 5, 7, 6, 9, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((Their difficulty is 2.))  
>  Inks: (Just squeaked it)  
>  ST: ((Nice! Stunt as you wish.))  
>  Inks: (Deyha unit acts again on tick 10, DV-1)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Nabijah whirled on her girls even as they howled and spat, blood on the ground running towards the shadows and the darker things that dwelled there. "OI YOU ROWDY BITCHES! GET BACK IN FORMATION AND ARMS UP!" She raised her sun-sword high with a fierce scowl, hacking at the nearest trail of lethal viscera to punctuate her declaration.

Hyena-women move to wrap wounds, staunch bleeding and haul their comrades to their feet. They're walking wounded, and some are beyond saving - but they haven't been decimated. And there's rage burning in them; hatred and a desire to strike back.

The yidak don't move from the rooftops. Why would they move? They have the high ground, a flanking position on two sides of the living and the advantage of reach; able to attack at their leisure without fear of retaliation except from slow and ineffective arrowfire. If the moon weren't shining down on them; dulling their minds and slowing their wits, they might be able to work out what Inks is doing... but she chose her time well, and Luna is bright in the sky.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((The yidak stay right where they are for Tick 7.))  
>  Inks: (Inks and MAji don't move, the Deyha may move back one tick, Not sure what Piercing Sun and his Rangers will do, but they seem to be doing okay.)  
>  Inks: (I think tick 8 is much the same, so we can move to Tick 9 where the Rangers get to act again. Piercing Sun gets to be a right bastard.)  
>  ST: ((I believe Inks gets to act on Tick 8.))  
>  Inks: (Hah! Yeah I forgot! Good catch)  
>  Inks: (Okay, walls have 12L Soak, I dealt something like 16 HLs last time out of 20. Let's try this dance again)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
Cursing under her breath, Inks put the Deyha's cries of pain and rage out of her mind. Instead she turned back to the load-bearing columns and arches surrounding her and Maji. In any other time, the tight space would have hindered Chronicle, but now her wild, calculated swings cut through stone and wood with contemptuous ease. Maji added his bulk to the effort, tackling a pillar with claws outstretched!  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Okay. 2-die stunt; roll it!))  
>  Inks: (Okay, this time I'm gonna *flurry*, 3 attacks, dice pool of 11, 10, 9, Diff 1 because stationary structures. Maji makes an attack as well. Inks is at DV-3, but that's okay because I have Charms for it~)  
>  Inks: !ex 10 "Attack 1"; [1, 6, 2, 8, 9, 1, 6, 6, 3, 8] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (Hit by 3, 3+12+3 = 18, Pierced Soak of 6, so 12 more autolevels.)  
>  Inks: !ex 9 "Attack 2"; [10, 3, 8, 1, 2, 1, 3, 3, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (12 more autolevels); [3, 4, 7, 6, 9, 2, 7, 2, 2] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (12 MORE autolevels.)  
>  Inks: !ex 9 "Maji"; [4, 8, 9, 4, 7, 7, 6, 3, 2] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  Inks: (4 + 7 + 0L is 11, does not break soak/hardness. Maji is sad)  
>  Inks: (But I really hope the building is coming down now that I've inflicted a total of 58 HLs to it!)  
>  ST: ((Alas for Maji. But yes, that is in fact enough to not just Damage the wall; it outright _Destroys_ it and, um, collapses the entire building inward rather than just tilting the roof to bring some of them down.))  
>  ST: ((The good news is that a full half of the Butchered - all of them on that side of the street - are now within close combat range.))  
>  ST: ((The bad news is that they are within close combat range because they are literally falling on top of and all around Inks.))  
>  ST: ((Check for Knockdown!))  
>  Inks: (Well, I rolled last time to calculate this all properly like ,so Inks should be safe from debris and the like. If you want ME to check for knockdown, that's gonna be called "Graceful Crane Stance." ... Heh, I haven't moved this tick either. Not really. Soooo)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, just Inks. Maji is too big and they're not falling on anyone else.))  
>  ST: ((And I know you have GCS, but you like being able to wave it around and go "lol what's knockdown; sounds like something other people have to deal with".))  
>  ST: ((So I verbalised the check rather than just skipping it.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The building rumbled ominously on the first swing, creaked threateningly on the second, and started screaming in pain on the third and final. When the first ceiling members started to fall, Inks took that as an opportunity. Picking a hole out through the collapsing rubble and falling horrors, Inks bounded up falling stone and wood until she rose above the collapsing dust and horror!  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Oh I do appreciate it, as you obviously see!)  
>  Inks: (Graceful Crane Stance as Inks Move Actions *up* the falling rubble!)  
>  ST: ((Niiiiice.))  
>  Inks: (now in terms of absolute distance, if you rule this as 'climbing' Inks really only moves 2.5 yards, if 'land moving', she moves a full five yards on falling rubble)  
>  ST: ((Knockdown is Dex+Ath at Diff 2, yes?))  
>  Inks: (yes, plus any penalties you decide to levy)  
>  ST: ((Cool cool. The yidak roll 4+3=7 at a -2 external from, y'know, being on top of the stuff that's collapsing.))  
>  ST: !ex 7 -2; [3, 6, 3, 4, 4, 8, 7] was rolled for 0 successes after modifiers.  
>  Inks: (Technically knockdown is the domain of Attacks, you could use Unstable Footing rules instead, which is like Ride but with AThletics. If the ground's instability is highier than their AThletics, they must make a roll stay standing, nad flurry if they want to do more than just keep their balance)  
>  ST: ((The ground they were standing on just _collapsed_ under them. There's nothing for them to stay standing _on_.))  
>  ST: ((Knockdown to prone is more accurate.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
"Volley!" Piercing Sun roars, and the Rangers loose another set of arrows as Inks gets clear. They've spent their time well, and chosen their moment. The yidak, caught flat-footed by the buildings giving way under them, are left scattered and prone across the rubble.

And _these_ arrows are _burning_.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Piercing Sun has used his time well, and along with another Aim action, he's had his men switch over to fire arrows.))  
>  ST: ((The Rangers roll a pool of 6+3 Aim against the yidak's prone DV 0.))  
>  Inks: !ex 9; [1, 7, 10, 2, 3, 6, 5, 4, 1] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (Defender soak, arrow damage?)  
>  ST: ((Base damage is 4L broadheads + 3 threshold -8L soak.))  
>  Inks: (No hardness, and they're not Essence wielders, no no ping?)  
>  ST: ((No hardness, and correct. Writain'))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The arrows lance in... and in their light, Inks finally gets a good look at the yidak, not as silver-washed silhouettes against the sky or dark shapes lurking in the shadows, but under the light.

Their skin is gold.

Their skin is gold, and the arrows scatters off it like lamellar. Fuck. Her mind works quickly as she puts the pieces together. The sun-gardens and exercise yards for training the body in this section of the city, the way the monks here were butchered... yes, no wonder their yidak have a way of strengthening their fragile corpuses. Their skin must be as strong as steel.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((Second Panoply Charm of the yidak - golden skin that gives them armoured soak equivalent to lamellar armour.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
But Piercing Sun is experienced in fighting the Dead. And while the yidak's skin may scatter the broadhead shafts, it does nothing to protect them when the splintered wood of the collapsed buildings catches light and begins, with unnatural speed fueled by the will of a Fire Dragon, to _burn_.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  ST: ((The attack bounced, but the fire arrows have created a Bonfire Hazard along that side of the street that the yidak are very much _not_ immune to.))  
>  ST: ((They are now frantic, in pain, and on fire.))  
>  Inks: (Indeed.)  
>  Inks: (So Deyha act on Tick 10, Inks On Tick 13, Rangers on Tick 14... Rubble-Ghosts I think on Tick 10 as well, but they have to spend an entire action standing up or flurry. Ranger-ghosts also act on tick 10?)  
>  Inks: (So 3 actors on tick 10)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so for Tick 9, the on-fire half of the yidak are - unsurprisingly - going to _Move out of the fire_.))  
>  Inks: (But they still take at least one trauma roll)  
>  ST: ((Yes. A bonfire is Trauma 3, which is doubled for the Dead because pure elements are their banes.))  
>  ST: ((They roll Stamina 4+Resistance 3 to try and downgrade the damage to Bashing, and get...))  
>  ST: !ex 7; [10, 9, 5, 1, 10, 10, 8] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((wow))  
>  Inks: (They just tank it outright?)  
>  Inks: (Dang)  
>  ST: ((No, they take 4B damage, but that doesn't cut them down a Mag dot.))  
>  ST: ((However, that's their first, unavoidable ping from the fire.))  
>  Inks: (Trauma shouldn't deal autolevels... they rolled sta+Res at Diff 6... Then they roll [Damgae dice]?)  
>  ST: ((Oh right, whoops.))  
>  ST: ((You wanna roll that, then?))  
>  ST: ((Also, the non-archer Rangers will be making a Blockade Movement to stop them getting out of the fire, which... I can't actually find the rules for?))  
>  Inks: (scroll of errata, or posted online, looking)  
>  ST: ((Okay, so this is a contested (Strength or Dex)+Ath roll!))  
>  ST: ((The Rangers roll Dex 4+Ath 3 = 7.))  
>  Inks: !ex 7; [1, 5, 2, 5, 10, 5, 4] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((The yidak roll Strength 6 + Ath 3 - 3 external "I AM ON FIRE ARGH" penalty))  
>  ST: !ex 9 -3; [1, 8, 8, 3, 5, 5, 5, 9, 1] was rolled for 0 successes after modifiers.  
>  ST: ((Ahahahaha.))  
>  ST: ((So that's another bonfire roll for them.))  
>  ST: !ex 7; [4, 9, 7, 7, 2, 10, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((Aaaaand this time they fail to make the Trauma roll!))  
>  ST: ((Remind me how you roll damage dice with Dicey?))  
>  Inks: (there's no command for it anymore, you just roll and adjust in your head)  
>  ST: !ex 4; [8, 9, 3, 9] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((Okay, so 3B on the first roll))  
>  ST: (And 4L rolled this time.))  
>  ST: !ex 4; [7, 10, 7, 10] was rolled for 6 successes.  
>  ST: ((Ooooo. Pity it's damage dice. But that's 4L, 3B done. This half of the yidak are down a Mag dot and hurting badly.))  
>  ST: ((Danke))  
>  Inks: !m 10; [1, 5, 3, 7, 7, 10, 6, 3, 2, 7] was rolled for 4 successes.  
>  ST: ((Okay, we will leave them, uh, still trying to get out of the fire, and move on to Tick 10. The half of the yidak on the _deyha_ side of the road are still on the roofs, so Nabijah has devised a plan, unless Inks has orders she wants to give.))  
>  Inks: (Clarify- Inks was attacking the Deyha-side building to specifically bring it down, so the Deyha could charge in and kill.)  
>  Inks: (That's kind ofwhy I was confused when Piercing SUn's rangers shot the 'prone' ghosts)  
>  ST: ((Oh right. Fuck. Hmm.))  
>  Inks: (I'm fine with what you said, for the record)  
>  ST: ((Yeah, shit, sorry, that's on me. I fucked up which side Inks was attacking.))  
>  ST: ((Sure you're fine with it?))  
>  Inks: (if it keeps things moving, I am)  
>  Inks: (I have no objections to Nabijah's plan)  
>  ST: ((Hmm. Or I guess we can just have the deyha side be the collapsed one. Okay, cool! So, the deyha can finish off the ones in the fire while Inks and the Rangers turn their attention to the Ranger side of the field.))  
>  ST: ((The deyha therefore get to roll... Accuracy 11, Mag bonus +2, Valour 4 = 17.))  
>  Inks: !ex 17; [4, 10, 5, 4, 9, 7, 3, 2, 10, 4, 7, 9, 6, 6, 6, 4, 6] was rolled for 8 successes.  
>  ST: ((oh god this is going to be a massacre))  
>  ST: ((another one, I mean))  
>  Inks: (They're targeting the prone ghosts then, logically, DV 0)  
>  ST: ((they're up and trying to get out - they rose during the first damage interval from the hazard. But that still beats their fire-penalised DV by 7, which gives you a damage roll of, um, 17L/2 - soak 8L.))  
>  Inks: !m 9; [4, 10, 5, 9, 3, 7, 1, 6, 5] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  ST: ((... huh. Less than expected.))  
>  ST: ((Still, it's enough with the Bashing to push them down to the last and exterminate them.))  
>  ST: ((Nice!))  
>  ST: ((Thing about the deyha. They're not as well drilled as the Rangers. They have lower DVs because of their crude chopping swords and brutal approach.))  
>  ST: ((But they hit like a fucking train.))  
>  ST: ((Okay, so that half of the yidak are down and out. Well, actually they're still on. But the only "on" they are is "on fire". They double-ded yo.))  
>  ST: ((Two Movement ticks! The remaining yidak...))  
>  Inks: (Nice. So just one group of Butchered left.)  
>  ST: !ex 3; [3, 5, 1] was rolled for 0 successes.  
>  ST: ((... will attempt to withdraw.))  
>  ST: ((They have the high ground, and will be Dashing and Jumping across the roofs into trapped territory. Will Inks contest? She can get off a spell if she wants.))  
>  Inks: (Inks will contest, how fast are they moving?)  
>  ST: ((Dex 4+6 gives them a Dash speed of 10.))  
>  ST: ((They are... one moment; Diff 3...))  
>  ST: !ex 7; [2, 8, 9, 5, 1, 2, 3] was rolled for 2 successes.  
>  ST: ((... all going in the same direction rather than spreading out and scattering.))  
>  ST: ((Should've succeeded on that Wits+War roll, guys.))  
>  Inks: (Heh. Basically they need to be at minimum 50 yards away from everybody. So that'd take about 5 ticks....)  
>  Inks: (stunting)  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
"Deyha, to me!" Inks declared, standing amidst the burning rubble of the collapse dwelling. Maji prowled with fierce intention as Inks raised Chronicle and braced it like a javelin. Lambent whorls of elemental fire tinged by Solar Essence built up around her blade.  
  


>   
>    
> 
>
>>   
>  Inks: (Shape Sorcery Action, Speed 5 DV -1.)  
>  ST: ((Wits+Awareness from the yidak))  
>  ST: !ex 7; [5, 5, 4, 10, 10, 8, 4] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((Int+Occult from the yidak, Diff n/a, but I'm going to roll it anyway because it's funny and Inks will laugh))  
>  ST: !ex 8; [1, 9, 6, 8, 9, 3, 2, 5] was rolled for 3 successes.  
>  Inks: (wellthen.jpg)  
>  ST: ((Their 3 successes on ward-fraying gets a +3 Magnitude bonus from acting in unison for 6 sux total.))  
> 
> 
>   
>   
> 

  
  
The build-up of essence is blatant and obvious, and the yidak have keen senses. As one they turn, hissing, _howling_ at the sight of the sun-essence. They raise their arms; those terrible rending claws moving through precise gestures that are unsettlingly _human_ and _scholarly_ for such monstrous creatures.

Ward-fraying gestures, Inks realises, and feels the wave of ward-ripping, barrier-fraying, thaumaturgically corrosive essence wash over her. Amplified by so many - fifty of them at least - it packs enough of a punch that it would tear apart any mortal ward in an instant, reduce even a master's to tatters, and probably fray even a rite of hers to the point of breaking.

And against the might of true Sorcery, it does absolutely fuck-all nothing whatsoever.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (ahahhaah)  
>  ST: ((See, if they weren't _really stupid_ right now. They probably wouldn't have tried a thaum-corroding attack against Sorcery.))  
>  Inks: (ahahhahaha)  
>  ST: ((I mean, if that _had_ been capable of working, it would have made Inks' spell blow up in her face and been a _really good move_.))  
>  ST: ((It's just))  
>  ST: ((she's casting Emerald Sorcery, not thaum))  
>  Inks: (indeed)  
>  Inks: (So 5 ticks pass, they're still fleeing- and they're ideally out of range of BRILLIANT RAPTOR friendly fire)  
>  ST: ((indeed))  
>  ST: ((You may stunt your cruel, cruel attack on the poor yidak at your leisure.))  
> 

  
  
Back arched, arm extended, form- perfect. Inks _thrust_ Chronicle forward, the blade leaping through the air on sorcerous contrails of burning Essence as the now familiar garda cry pierced the air. The golden feathered form shot out with blinding speed, weaving through archway and over footbridges.

From on high, it might have looked like a shooting star streaking across the shadowed rooftops of El Galabi. From ground level, it was burning, righeous purifying death. The firebird-daiklave slammed into the warding formation, crushing the madness of the prideful dead under sorcerous power. The impact broke corpus, burned spirit, and cast them asunder.  
  


>   
>  Inks: (Defenders can dodge at -4 External Penalty, I roll per+occult +essence to attack)  
>  Inks: !ex 13; [4, 7, 7, 4, 4, 4, 9, 5, 3, 5, 9, 8, 5] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  Inks: (Do the ghosties dodge? Can they dodge?)  
>  ST: ((Dodge _where?_ It's 80 metres across! Oh, the initial attack. Yeah, hang on.))  
>  ST: ((Dodge DV of 4, reduced by -2 by their Dash and another -1 by their flurried Erode Ward, -4...))  
>  ST: ((...))  
>  ST: ((so why don't you just go ahead and roll that damage))  
>  ST: ((Willpower+Essence/2 Overwhelming. Armoured soak doesn't apply because it's FIAH, so 2L natural soak.))  
>  Inks: !m 17; [5, 1, 5, 9, 10, 8, 1, 4, 8, 4, 4, 9, 6, 1, 3, 5, 6] was rolled for 5 successes.  
>  ST: ((And that takes them down a Mag dot and also inflicts Knockdown, which means the fire hazard kills them the rest of the way before they can even get up, on account of them not being able to leave the fire hazard because they _are_ the fire hazard.))  
>  ST: ((... also, um))  
>  ST: ((The radius for the hazard is (Essence x10) metres - 40, in Inks' case))  
>  ST: ((So, uh))  
>  ST: ((Well done! You just cleared four city blocks of traps!))  
>  ST: ((By, um, clearing four city blocks. Entirely. By setting everything down to the stone on fire.))  
>  Inks: (Yep.)  
> 

  
  
The conflagration lit the night like a wildfire. Four city blocks _burned_ \- stone, wood, ghostly corpus and brutal traps alike. The howls were lost under the crackling roar of the flames, and Piercing Sun's joyful laugh echoed out over it in triumph.

Vahti circled down out of the sky as Inks watched it burn; landing in the narrow strip between the burning row of buildings on one side and the blazing eighty-metre circle on the other.

"Happy to report four more blocks cleared to the north, boss!" she chirped. "Nice shooting and you're welcome. Dibs on not rebuilding that bit when we win."  
  


>   
>  ST: ((We can close there, or you can have Inks finish off with a quip and some orders to secure this block.))  
> 

  
  
Chronicle reappeared in Inks's hand, and she pushed the visor of her helmet up with a sputtering sigh. "Excellent. Glad to hear it..." She hopped back down to the Deyha and set about treating their wounds.  
  


>   
>  ST: ((End session))  
>  ST: 5+1xp +3Sxp +2mxp  
>  Inks: (Whew.)  
>  Inks: Combat definitely improved as we were paying more attention to the details.  
>  ST: Good good. ^_^  
>  Inks: I know you find it frustrating, so I really appreciate your willingness to engage with it  
>  ST: you had fun?  
>  Inks: yeah! I was having fun yesterday too. I think... we both need to get back into our grooves a bit, but we're on the right track  
>  ST: Awesome.  
>  ST: Glad to play, then!  
>  ST: I look forward to the postmortem.  
>  Inks: aye. Thanks for being a great sport about critiques too  
>  ST: Np.  
>  ST: Especially eager to see your thoughts on how I'm portraying the solar yidak, both in terms of horror aesthetic and also scaryness.  
>  ST: I shall wait with bated breath  
> 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> These are text logs of an actual session, played over an internet relay chat with an attached dicebot when applicable. It contains OOC discussion as well as metatextual commentary. It is only formatted for readability, the content has not been appreciably changed from what was played.
> 
> The intent of this work, of publishing it for consumption, is to provide an example of the breadth of Exalted games. If it succeeds or fails, I leave as an exercise to the reader.


End file.
